Save The Brother
by snfsylva
Summary: On the fictional continent of Septentrion, a search for the fuel of war leads to the fires of a regional conflict...great story if you like the military battle scenes so iconic of Clancy's novels, and want to see the realistic application of tactics, equipment, and politics that make his stories so fun to read.
1. Prelude

**The Ministry of Finance, Erus  
** _ **Sixteen hours after the incident**_

Four men, varying from middle-aged to elderly, sat quietly in the office of the High Minister of Finance, Archibald Vaulk, with their gazes directed towards the wonderfully polished screen of the room's 60-inch television, which was displaying a news report by the Royal Broadcasting Network on the predicted effect the refinery fire would have on the nation.

"Workers at the Ascended Legion Oil Terminal in Port Prince today received possibly their last ever shipment of barrels from the Spinneli Refinery in the Allied Nations. The shipment was already en route when news of an inferno tearing through the vital structure began to surface. Though the crown has expressed major concern over the loss of the refinery to the Allied government, it has of yet not presented a solution to the current crisis. Petrol prices are expected to rise in the coming months, making the lives of motorists slightly more difficult whilst potentially affecting public transport services. The government, meanwhile, will attempt to search for other ways to top up its stock and prevent a crippling shortage."

One of the older men picked up the remote control, digging his finger onto the power button and turning the television off, catching the attention of the other three men. "So, gents. What are we looking at?"

The youngest in the room, a man in his very late thirties at least, spoke up. "We have enough oil to last the current population exactly three months, High Minister. Though, with the recent spike in demand, some of our richer citizens are attempting to hoard and store the oil, should the worst case scenario occur."

"So, we have much less time than we think we do."

"Precisely, sir."

Vaulk turned to the other two men, leaning on the table and rubbing the tiredness from his half-open eyes. "I want lists of all major public road transportation networks and their expenditure, how many people that use them a day and how many litres it takes to fuel them for those days..."

The other two men began jotting down the High Minister's orders on already-prepared notebooks. As a former economic researcher at the Claus Folcwalding Institute under the previous king, Vaulk had a dire habit of wanting to be informed on the ripples of every financial decision.

"...I want to know how many barrels are left at Ascended Legion and the other oil depots around the country, see how many we'd be prepared to divert to the military in the event of a war without crippling public services, how many we can spare for the aristocracy alone and how many are left in the Royal Reserve. I also want the names of every company with investments in the oil industry; Salian and Co., Adler Petroleum, Folcwalding-Merovingia Shipping, we need to know how this will affect the private sector in the time we have. I want all of this information ready and presentable for the First Minister by the end of the week so that he discuss it with the King."

Vaulk turned back to his younger adviser, the flare of focus in his eyes. "Get on the line to the Ministry of Relations... No, belay that, go there in person and bring me back their reports that describe how our neighbors are faring. The faster we can react to this, the slower the damage to the country will be until we can secure oil supplies from another source. Clear?"

"Yes, High Minister." replied all three men, in varying tones and volumes. The three men jumped up from their seats and shuffled out of the High Minister's office, leaving Archibald to rock back and forth in his armchair slowly, deep in thought and brooding with impatience. Vaulk knew that even if he had the information to the First Minister at light speed, he would still have to wait until the King's speech at the next meeting in the Chambers of State to see what stance the crown would take on the issue. All he could do now was wait and hope that, if everything went south, the King wouldn't choose him to be put, literally, on the firing line.

 **Harrow Military College, Sarston**

"...I declare that I will serve, obey and bear true and unwavering allegiance to His Majesty King Reginald the Second, his heirs and successors and that I will, in duty bound, defend His Majesty, his heirs and successors, his territories and possessions..."

These were the words being spoken by a large group of new recruits ready to serve their five years of compulsory military service. Lance Corporal Francis Evers and Lieutenant-Technician Aldert Beullen presided over the new inductees as they spoke the final passage of words which bound the next phase of their life in service to the crown in a synchronized declaration. The two were stood among a line of officers that far outranked them, Buellen and Evers were only present because they had been chosen to represent their positions for this particular attestation.

"...I will dedicate, from this moment, five years of uninterrupted service, in protection and loyalty, to His Majesty King Reginald the Second, his heirs and successors. Long live the King."

There was a moment of silence around the academy's inner hall. A commander stepped forward from the line of officers, with the new recruits, who had already undergone basic ceremonial training, raising their hands to their foreheads to salute him. Evers spotted one or two newcomers momentarily panic and salute with their wrong hand before realizing their mistake and hastily switching over. He smiled internally, thinking back to his first days as a trainee.

"Baron Company! Ho!" The recruits quickly stood to attention, primed and ready for what came next. The commander then turned to Beullen and Evers' line. "Officers! Ho!"

Buellen, Evers and the other officers, with timeless precision, assumed the same position as the recruits. The commander turned back towards the crowd and waited patiently whilst another moment of silence enveloped the hall. Suddenly, the entrance doors flung open, giving way for a group of admirals and air marshals who casually strolled into the hall with the Elector-Margrave as their lead. The commander, ever adamant to impress his superiors, marched passed the new recruits, who were unaware of the identities of the men behind them, to meet the entourage.

Evers leaned over subtly towards Buellen and whispered, somewhat confused. "What's the E.M. doing here?"

"The King's speech. Major Geelen received a message thirty minutes before the attestation that the E.M. and some of his top brass wanted to watch it alongside the new troops." replied Beullen, continuing to stare straight ahead.

"Probably to put the fear of God in them." Evers retorted.

The commander, the Elector-Margrave and the other high-ranking officers moved to the front of the hall, passed the line of officers and out of Buellen and Evers' line of sight. Some of the recruits, upon seeing Ridley, seemed to shake, perhaps in fear, awe, or both, but retained their posture.

"Baron Company! Stand at ease!" shouted the commander. The recruits relaxed, letting the tension in their bodies vanish, though some were still apprehensive being in the presence of such influential military figures. The commander soon turned his orders to the officers. "Officers! About face!"

Buellen and Evers spun on their feet, making a successful one hundred and eighty degrees turn to come face to face with a large television screen. "Officers! Stand at ease!"

Almost as soon as the order to stand easy was given, the television flicked on, presenting the hall of the Harrow Academy with the intimidating image of the man that Baron Company had just sworn away five years of their life to...

 **Chambers of State, Erus**

Reginald stood in front of the camera that was broadcasting his face across the nation, fixing the lens with his stern glare. The Chambers' staff and government ministers had vacated the entire room, instead watching the speech on various televisions throughout the building. With only the production crew operating the camera equipment in his presence, Reginald breathed in, preparing to explain the situation to his kingdom.

"Good afternoon to all of my subjects. The purpose of today's speech is to outline the plan the crown intends to put into action concerning the recent oil shortage. As you all may or may not know, the nation has been forced to rely on our reserve supply after a devastating fire engulfed the Spinneli Refinery in the Allied Nations. I will not bore you all with the copious details, but the main effect that you will encounter in your lives will most likely be a simple increase in the prices of petrol and diesel."

The King stopped momentarily to adjust his tie and sip from a nearby glass of water, clearing his throat. "As a result of the shortage, the armed forces will have priority for all military vehicles over the ordinary citizenry. Defence is one of the staples of our society and, as your protector, I will not leave our borders open to opportunistic political strongmen with something to prove. I have bid the Ministry of Relations to open appropriate channels with our neighbours, with the aim of securing deals that will plug the hole left by the Spinneli inferno. I have also given my blessing to the Ministry of Enforcement to deploy deterrent officers to Aemen's oil depots. This is to ensure that greed does not divide us during a time when we should stand together and to maximise the length at which we can keep public and private transport operational. Theft of national resources in a period of crisis will not be tolerated."

Reginald paused, letting the last words of his speech linger and sink in to the minds of whoever was watching. After letting an appropriate amount of time pass, the King relaxed his stance slightly, still exuding an authoritarian aura but with noticeably less intensity. "Ordinarily, Aemen would be able to sustain itself on oil reserves for three months alone. However, we have found temporary relief within our newfound ally, Achesia, who has agreed to help stretch out the amount of time we have until our reserves become entirely depleted. I am grateful to the Achesian monarchy for their aid until a more permanent solution can be found. On the subject of Achesia, I believe that Aemen may have a permanent and influential partner with which to do business with. As such, I will be making another announcement at a more appropriate time which I hope will bring our two nations closer together. For those who are slaves to detail, the Ministry of Information will publish a report describing all of the actions being put into motion pertaining to the oil crisis within the next week. I expect more decisions from my ministers in the coming days as both they and I will search tirelessly for the best solution. I wish you a good afternoon and thank you for listening to the words of your king."

 **Tower of Ascendancy, Imperium City, Imperium, Realm of Achesia**

 _In his right hand was a pomegranate, in his left an ewer. His eyes bore upon me, his presence surrounding me and squeezing me. The oak under which I sat began to fracture as he consumed the space in which it occupied. Without words he commanded I listen to his edict, I dare not squirm from his grip less he fracture me as the tree. I gazed obediently as he poured out the ewer over the roots of the tree, a black tar dripped to the ground and as it lathered the wood fire burst from its void. The whole tree in which I was under began to flame, but as I thought the inferno would consume me, he squeezed the pomegranate so the juices might dash the fire. As they did the fire receded..._

Mid afternoon, the Ackular would be taking his coffee now. Solomon was a servant to the monarch and typically served the Ackular his coffee this time of day, black with a dash of salt. He draped a towel over his arm and picked up the fine porcelain laced with etchings of violet and gold. He steadied his arm as to not drop the hot liquid over the stone floor as he made the trip into the Ackular's chamber. From the side of the chamber he would enter, it was just a small entry way for the servants to go back and fourth from the kitchens.

Solomon entered quietly, the Ackular often did not want loud disturbances at this time, just a quick placement of the coffee on his large oak desk and back through the servants door. Today instead of pouring over papers and reports the Ackular instead was standing in front of the large painting behind his desk. It pictured an oak tree against the yellow sky. He seemed enamored by the mural which stood as large as the wall in the huge airy chamber.

"Your majesty, your coffee." He whispered as he set the china down on the desk. The Ackular did not move, strangely nor acknowledge his presence. Curious Solomon stole a glance at his majesty and too his horror found his eyes black as the nights sky, pupils lost in the void, with blood dropping from his ducts.

"Your Majesty?! Guards, call for the physician!" He yelled, terrified as his leader stood fixed. He tried to grab the Ackular, lay him on the ground, do something to keep his condition stable but he would not budge. Suddenly the main doors to the chamber opened and Solomon quickly looked to see who had come to the rescue. Before him however stood the Arch-Praetor, the head of the Archari Gregian, his black and gold robes flowed over the stone floor and his hands resting together before him.

"Your Eminence! We must get the Ackular to a doctor, his eyes, they are black and bleeding!" He hustled towards the older man, hoping to find relief in his wise presence.

"Be still child, for it is a glorious sign of the Summer God's love." The Arch-Praetor smiled. He took the servant gently by the arm and lead him to the mural of the tree. "You see the vista." He motioned his arm.

"Yes, it changes almost every week. Last week the painting was of an empty and dark ally."

"Far from having a keen taste in the arts, the Ackular requires more of these canvases. They are his window to meet with the Summer God." He began to lead the servant back towards the main chamber door. "The Dread Lord communicates to his majesty in visions that take place within these paintings. It is a most holy and glorious thing, good tidings I suspect shall come to the Realm in this vision."

"I see." Solomon remained unsure, and confused of that he has witnessed. "I'm not sure I understand though."

"Your not meant to." The Arch-Praetor spoke bluntly as he pressed a bayonet into Solomons stomach, Solomon hunched as the thick metal lurched through his abdomen. The elder man struggled to lower the servant to the ground as the blood poured over his robes. "I am sorry my child, but the Dread Lord commands the secret nature of his communication with the mortal realm." The Arch-Praetor stroked Solomon's cheek as he breathed his last gulp of air. "Sad is a wasted life." Bastian Kuno had been a layman for his entire adult life, and killing a man in the name of the Summer God was no easier as time went by, but it was necessary.

Kuno turned towards where the Aukular still stood unmoved during the whole ordeal. He knelt, arms held open and gaze to the ceiling as he meditated on the glory of the Dread Lord.

It was several minutes before the Aukular came back to the living world, and with a loud heave he breathed the air of this plain. Julian VII turned and drew breath in again. His face rested with ease as he faced the Arch-Praetor.

"I hope the Dread Lord has sent tidings of blessings to the Realm your majesty." He said eyes still fixed on the sky.

"He did indeed." The Ackular tilted his head in curiosity as he looked upon the body bleeding on the floor of his chambers. "Its time for the Realm to re-enter the Septentrion fold."

The Kuno looked upon the Ackular and smiled.

 **Julian Airfield, His Majesties Air Corps Base Hawker, Imperium Province**

The screams of the engines as the two MAS.81's pealed across the airfield were deafening. The way their wings hit the air was just right to make one think they were hearing the cry of an ancient dragon barreling across the plains. The violet and crimson striped aircraft banked hard to the right, one after another as if they were at chase. As the lead plane tried to escape its pursuer the hunter found its way back on its tail. It was a high speed came of cat and mouse as the fighters began to ascend high into the sky in an almost vertical position. Suddenly however the lead fighter pointed its nose down and to the left and descended at rapid pace towards the tarmac bellow. Aircrewmen scrambled away as they feared its impending crash but just at the last moment of hope it pulled up and thundered across just meters from the ground. The stalking aircraft seemed dumbfounded high in the sky as it searched for its prey, but it was not long before it began to hound after it again. With a quick barrel roll to fixed itself on the low flying fighter.

"Dispatched." The pilot squawked satisfyingly over the radio.

"Motherfucker." The responding aircraft sent back." The two hornets lined up wing to wing as they passed around to the landing pattern.

The ornate aircraft taxied towards the terminal of the Air Base one after another until they reached the outside of a large hanger that bore the emblem of the House of Requient. The canopies of the aircraft opened and two young men stepped out as the aircrews brought ladders to them.

"I believe you not to be my brother, but instead a bastard hound bitch, the way you seek out while you fly." The young man yelled to the other pilot as he jumped down from the ladder. The aircrew around the aircraft knelt on their knees as the pilot passed. "As you were, very fine work on this aircraft." He said politely as he walked towards his companion from the other plane.

"Thank you your majesty." The senior enlisted responded, eyes fixed on the tarmac bellow him. As the Pilot Prince or "Acklium" as it is said in Achesia walked away from the aircraft he rose and began to bark orders to his crew to begin maintenance immediately.

"So what you are saying is our father fucked a hound? I don't believe he would be pleased to hear that." The other Acklium mused.

"What I am saying is some witch cursed you, and now you are the son of a bitch I always said you were." He laughed as he patted his brother on the shoulder. "Father would be proud of your skills as pilot, as my younger brother is turning out to be quiet the aviator."

"Seems like you should stick to the ground, you drive a bullet better than a plane." He returned the compliment.

The two walked towards the wardroom adjacent to the hanger, two guards opened the doors and saluted arms as they entered.

"Attention to the Prince!" A guard yelled and the occupants of the wardroom stood to attention. "As you were." The older of the two Acklium Hugh Requient shouted. The occupants rested into what they were doing previously. A guard officer approached the Ackliums and handed them a data pad.

"A urgent report your majesties. News from your father, your needed at the tower." He bowed his head.

"Thank you." Acklium James bowed his head in return, like an officer returning a salute. The guard snapped to and walked out of the wardroom to the tarmac where a Augusta Westland AW109 painted in a black and violet scene was being rolled out and powered up.

"It seems that ends the fun for today." Hugh smiled as he began to walk out of the building towards the awaiting chopper.

"Lucky, this avoids you being bested in fencing. You would be both shot down and stabbed for the day." The little brother sassed.

The elder of the two didn't honor it with a response but rather made his way to the helicopter, his flights suit flattering in the wind of the blades.

The flight from the air base to the royal fortress was only 20 minutes, the two Ackliums enjoyed the view of their city bellow them as they passed over the high walls of the outer defenses. The white washed fortifications have been added to and modernized since the medieval times. Their famous color was a sight that was known all around the Realm.

The Fortress of Ascendancy was at the western most part of the city where the walls met the steep cliffs of the Mountain of Pactguard. The tower has looked over the city since 1175 when it was erected by Ackular Luther III. The helicopter descended to the ground in the gardens of the royal palace. As it set down ground crews dressed in ceremonial garb met them to open the door and welcome the Ackliums to the palace. The formal bows were exchanged and the two heirs to the Realm ran across the field to the doors which lead into the Palace. Through chamber and hall adorned with the history of their household until they came to the large doors that guarded entry to their fathers chambers.

"My sons, please sit." The Ackular said as he heard the chamber doors open. He stared at a large mural of the ocean that had been recently hung behind his desk. He seemed to study every stroke of paint that decorated a wave of the sea.

The two boys bowed to their father, their knees resting on the hard stone floor. "You summoned us father?"

"Yes." He cleared his throat as he turned from the painting. The oceans seemed to surround him as he stood behind his desk. "I have serious business to discuss with you, sit." He motioned to the space in front of his desk and two servants ran out from behind the chamber and placed two chairs. The boys paced over and sat as they were told, each wondering what would warrant such a serious reaction from their father.

Before the Ackular began several other men walked in from the chamber entrance. They were easily recognized as Aucks- lords of the Realm- each wearing fine clothing embroidered with the most lavish of colors: some signifying their house they swear loyalty to, others to pronounce their riches. They all stood on either side of the Ackular's desk each holding various papers or data pads.

"Its time to discuss the future of our Realm, and your part in it." Their father began. He paced behind his desk for a moment and then sat across from them and leaned in. "Our seclusion as a nation is now at an end, we must join the fold to further our position in the world." The boys seemed confused for a moment as they glanced at each other and then at the Aucks that stood around them. The Realm of Achesia had been in seclusion from the outside world for hundreds of years, not having much contact with the many nations that lay beyond its boarders. "Our resources are valuable to other nations. We produce much oil, more than we consume and this could be very profitable for us, specially in these times." He took a paper from one of the Aucks and placed it in front of his sons. "Recently an oil refinery exploded in the Allied Nations, this has driven demand up high for crude oil. I have used this opportunity to secure for the Realm an alliance with an old power, the Kingdom of Aemen." He again took another paper from a different Auck. Before his sons he lay a photo of a family, one that seemed to be of some wealth and stature from the look of it. "This is the Royal Family of Aemen." He pointed to a specific member. "That is King Reginald II's daughter, which you are to marry, Hugh." This came as a slight shock to Hugh, he did not expect to be married for another few years, and much less to a foreigner. Surely he thought he would be paired with Priscilla Daevous a woman of note in the Realm.

"This is all coming at such a rush father." Hugh sat back in his chair.

"This is what your life has lead up to my son. To marry, have heirs of your own and to succeed me. Your marriage will secure the Realm a close ally, and leave an ever lasting legacy for our dynasty."


	2. Casus Belli

_**Abwehr Headquarters**_  
 _ **Kronstadt, Capital of the Volksrepublik Wanka**_  
 _ **0900 Hours, Same Day**_

Abwehr-chief Franz Kanaris rubbed his eyes drowsily. He had barely received 2 hours of sleep since the Allied Nations' oil disaster had plunged Wanka into the worst crisis since the Dellian insurgency six years ago. Meeting after meeting had been called up by the nations authoritarian (and somewhat corrupt) government, lead by Ulrike Meinhof. Wanka only produced 40% of the oil it required, the rest came from imports, much of it from the AN's Universal Petroleum. Seemingly every nation on Meridia was now scrambling to survive. Sylva had nationalized all UP assets, and had demanded that the other nations to do the same. But Wanka had refused- it had found a solution. And the solution to the crisis seemed to him the most utterly stupid thing that any government could do in such a situation. Invade and annex part of another country. A country which was more economically developed, had a bigger population and had a far more advanced military. And his job was to give them a _casus belli_ for the planned "return of historically Wankan land".

Historically Wankan, my ass, Kanaris thought. The history of the Sellenland was quite recent. The geographical position meant that few people bothered to cross the difficult terrain which formed the border between Aemen and Murovanka. Back in the 1800s, Aemen families decided to settle and build villages in the few cultivatable areas near the Donau and Elbe rivers of the Sellenland. Because of the difficulties in terrain, the area remained quite peaceful- until the remains of the Wankan monarchy arrived, fleeing from the popular uprisings and subsequent revolutions which ended several hundred years under the King's rule. The survivors of the _Königliche Garde_ , the King's Guard, didn't hesitate to surprise and occupy the villages of the ethnic Aemen population. The newcomers brutally expelled hundreds of Aemeners from their homeland, forcing them to flee and killing them when they didn't. Thus, much of Sellenland came to be Wankan-dominated.

But once again, chaos threw the existing Wankan order apart. The Republic of Murovanka was torn into a state of anarchy which lasted for several decades with numerous factions fighting for domination. In face of the chaos, the Aemen King did not let the opportunity to retake what had been lost over a hundred years ago, pass. 1982, Aemen troops invaded the Sellenland and occupied it with little resistance. However, unlike the Wankans earlier, they did not attempt to force their enemies out; instead, more Aemeners were encouraged to settle in the Sellenland. The Aemen population swelled, and conflicts ensued due to racist policies of the Aemen authority. As a result, these policies were relaxed and overt discrimination ceased to exit; however, it was still widely present. The Aemen citizens were treated far more favorably and had a generally far better quality of life. Wankers were far more susceptible to being arrested and executed. This apartheid-like system generated much discontent and anger which continued to rise over the years, and was something the Wankan government was now happy to exploit…

And so, the Abwehr was to play a big role. As the nations foreign intelligence service, it was responsible for primarily these situations. Kanaris' agents were now actively stirring and provoking conflicts between Wankans and Aemens; the number of wounded, dead and executed (mostly Wankan for the latter) was skyrocketing. Special-Forces squads of the 75. Sturmbattalion and Sturmgeschwaders 12 and 13 were being infiltrated past the porous Wankan-Aemen border with missions to find suitable pathways of advance, gather intelligence on Aemen Army strengths and to prepare for sabotage missions.

 _ **Krakenhof, Kingdom of Aemen**_  
 _ **0200 Hours**_

Markus Pantelejen and his partner crept along the barbed-wire fence surrounding the mansion, which was home to a well-respected Wankan and his family. The place wasn't guarded, despite the bubbling tensions between the darker-skinned ethnic Wankers and white ethnic Aemen majority. This made Markus' job much easier. They reached the place where they'd cut a large hole in the barbed wire the day before, and crept through. Running rapidly amongst the shadows, they reached the door. Nobody was out at this time; the entire town was deadly silent.

It took Markus barely half a minute to pick the old lock, and both of them crept in, pistols with attached silencers in hand. The entire Weissman family lived here; had lived here for several generations, and had become a symbol of the Wankers claim that the Sellenland, as the lightly populated mountainous region was called, belonged to the Wankers. There was no time to waste. They quickly and quietly searched the ground floor. Finding nobody awake, they proceeded into the sleeping quarters. Light rays shone out from the bottom of one of the doors, it was the office. Heinrich Johannes Weissman, Wankan-rights activist, hero of the Sellenwankers and thorn of the local Aemen authorities, was up working.

Carefully, Markus turned the doorknob and opened it. A barely audible screeching alerted the victim that something unusual was going on. But there were two bullets in his head before he could register the masked intruders. It was no pleasure for Markus to kill his own countrymen, but this was necessary- for the greater good of the Wankan _Volk_. The Weissman family would become martyrs of the Wankan cause, their names would become known across the entire Wankan People's Republic, and maybe, one day, even a stature of them would be constructed.

Finding nobody else in the office, Markus and his partner proceeded with their mission. They entered every room, silently killing any living being present, regardless of age or gender. Within minutes, the Weissman bloodline had been exterminated, more than a dozen Wankers lay dead on the floor, half of them children. The bodies were heaped together on the kitchen floor. Both proceeded to whack and punch the dead bodies, leaving them in a mess of bruises and cuts. On the walls of the house, they sprayed in red paint:

 _WANKERS, GET OUT! SELLENLAND BELONGS TO THE AEMEN PEOPLE_

Finally, they each produced an Aemen-made submachine-gun.

"Bereit?"

His partner nodded. The night came alive with the sudden twin-fusillades of gunfire as sixty rounds were pumped into the dead corpses. When they were done, they swiftly left the house, exiting via the same way they came from, and disappeared into the night. The first neighbors had awoken, and had already alerted the authorities. When the deed would be discovered, both sides, the Aemen citizens and the Wankan minority, would both pay…

 _ **Hallenburg Militärbasis**_  
 _ **Volksrepublik Wanka**_  
 _ **1600 Hours, Same Da**_

Hauptmann Zweistein of B Kompanie, 1. Battalion, 66. Fallschirmjägerregiment (Paratrooper) kissed his tearful wife and two children goodbye. His little ones wouldn't let go, especially his 7-year old daughter, who understood fully well that her father might not come back.

" _NEEEEIIINN… Papa, geh' nicht!"_ she squeeled, desperately clinging to his camouflage jacket, causing several heads to turn.

 _"Papa wird bestimmt zurückkommen. Das versprech' ich dir. Sei ein gutes Kind und kümmere dich um Mama und dein Bruder, ja? Papa kommt bestimmt zurück."_

He firmly but kindly pulled his daughter away from him, waved at his family for the last time, and headed toward the waiting Transler-400's military transport aircraft where men on loudspeakers were loudly chanting the respective unit names: _"ROT-BLAU, ROT-BLAU, ROT-BLAU, HIERHER.."_

One of his platoon commanders caught up with Zweistein, patting him on his back. Both had red eyes. Nobody spoke until they walked up the ramp into the aircraft, which was already halfway loaded with his company.

"What do you know about our mission?"

"I know as much as you do, nothing more, nothing less. What do you think is going on? As usual, the wording is so damn vague…"

"I'd guess its some bloody Dellen faction acting up again. We'll probably have to flush them out of the mountains once more- or something like that."

Zweistein grimaced at that. Both of them had been there, as privates, in the cold mountains near the Wankan-Aemen border. Dellian rebels were waging an expertly-led guerrilla warfare campaign which shook the entire north of Wanka. Together with several _Gebirgsjäger_ (mountain troops) battalions, they were tasked with clearing the network of caves that the Delles were using to stage their attacks. The mission was met with varying success, with massive casualties on both sides. A ceasefire was agreed upon, something which holds to this day. The Dellian rebels still continue to live in the mountains, mostly on the Aemen side of the border, where the local authorities didn't bother them.

"Still, watch your words. I think Meinhof's loosening up her policy on the Delles, apparently trying to get them to 'integrate'. Rumor has it that there are numerous half-Delles in the Armed Forces, and even some full-Delles."

"Madness, _gell_? First sign of a rebellion, and they'll switch sides. These cold bastards should be kicked out immediately."

Zweistein shrugged at that.

"The regiment commander says they're the best mountain troops around. Well, we will see. We're in no position to decide."

"Hmph." Zweistein clearly saw that his subordinate wasn't satisfied by the answer. The issue with the Delles was a twisted and complicated one- what issue wasn't twisted and complicated? What bothered him about this mission was the vagueness about it. He'd only been told that they _might_ be deployed to 'protect' Wankan lives up north, and that his company would undergo preparations and training in the cold mountains. He turned his head, just in time to see the last crates of locally manufactured air-launched anti-radiation missiles and air-to-air missiles get loaded onto the aircraft. The grey Transler-400 rolled out behind the massive Transler-5 strategic transport which was no doubt carrying several of the regiments Wiesel Waffenträger Armored Weapons Carrier on board.

We're in a massive oil crisis, but the government still has enough to airlift entire divisions across the country. he thought. _How strange…_


	3. Investigations

**Krakenhof, Aemen**  
 **Twelve hours after the killing**

Standing in his office in the mountain town's small constabulary, Jeroen Korst rubbed his forehead as he poured over the photos of the crime scene. There had always been tension between the two ethnic groups of Aemen and Wankans ever since a younger King Reginald II had ordered the Sellenland to be retaken over three decades ago, but never had there been anything like this. The abundance of the splattered blood, the bullet-ridden and maliciously mangled bodies, the soul-ripping messages of hate scrawled into the walls. It reminded Korst of the time when he was a child, during the heated period of unrest that marked the last few days of the first Reginald, the King's father, along with the bloodshed that followed it.

As the Krakenhof detective looked over the evidence, stood beside him was William Arpen, dressed in thick clothes, sturdy boots and waterproof gloves to counteract the grim chill of the mountain air.

Korst sunk back into his rickety seat, sighing heavily and picking at the raised patterns on the chair's wooden arms. "Normally, at this point, I'd be in contact with the relatives, trying to calm them down, assuring them we'll catch the killer. That's what I'd be doing if there were any relatives to contact, anyway."

Arpen moved closer, looking over the photos for himself. He held his hand over his mouth after spotting the pictures of the bodies, they were hardly recognizable and had been viciously torn apart by small arms fire. What remained were bruised and swollen corpses that barely resembled humans. "The children as well..."

Korst rubbed his forehead, trying to force his brain to process the situation at a quicker pace. "Will, what fucking monster could have done this? Here? This doesn't happen here."

Arpen wasn't law enforcement himself, he was one of Salian and Co.'s legal advisors that lived in Krakenhof and worked on renewing the company's Sellenland oil operation as well as representing the staff that worked there. Korst had invited him to the constabulary because of the vicinity of the crime to the oil fields and because of the ethnicity of some of his employees. He stood silent for some time, reluctantly taking in the horror of what lay before him. "What can I do to cooperate, Jay?"

"Well, you're going to have to keep all of the Wankans on the oil fields away from their place of work. We're going to increase police patrols and we've pulled more men from Siegen to help with that."

"You want me to keep dozens of workers away from their jobs? Jay, if they don't work, then we can't pay them. That's company policy. Not to mention the fact that that's really going to hurt production." Arpen replied. It wasn't any secret to those on the higher pay grades of Salian and Co. that the business was a part of the Royal House of Olbridge's brand. Prince Ivan was the one pulling the strings and King Reginald was playing the tune to which his son danced. The Salians, the company's original founders, were only kept around as figureheads, as frontmen, as shields for blame.

"They'll have to cope Will. We recovered one of the murder weapons from outside the property, I didn't need to send it off for analysis to recognize it as being one of ours. I've seen soldiers from the watchtowers with the-"

Korst stopped and both men's eyes suddenly widened. The small Sellenland garrison of soldiers were the only people with access to those types of firearms in the area, if one of them were involved...

"My God," Arpen uttered. "You don't think... that it was one of them, do you? One of the soldiers?"

Korst rose from his chair, stroking his chin in a tense moment and walking to the other side of the desk, looking at the crime photos. "I'm going to have to write a report to the Ministry of Enforcement. If there's a deranged ultranationalist soldier with a supply of ammunition and a functioning weapon on the loose, then they have to know." 

**Aemen Air Space**  
 **Eighteen hours after the killing**

Usually, the skies of the Sellenland were clear, calm, with only solitary birds of prey hunting for their next meal occasionally dotting the beautiful blue expanse. Today, however, that peace was shattered by the drone of helicopter rotors slicing through the air. The Ministry of Initiative, upon hearing of the incident in Krakenhof from the Ministry of Enforcement, decided to take matters into its own hands. High Minister of Initiative Augustus Folcwalding had ordered the Inspectorate, the small but ruthless arm of military law in Aemen headed by Augustus' eldest son Commander Niels Folcwalding, to depart immediately for Krakenhof to investigate Korst's claim of a renegade soldier.

Two black Chinook helicopters bearing a modified Ministry of Initiative symbol on the side began to descend as they came into the vicinity of the Sellenland's mountain range. Niels Folcwalding sat in the front of one of the helicopter's cockpits alongside the pilot as both airborne vehicles sped through the sky towards Reiterhof Air Field. Niels was holding on to a file of evidence and facts on the case and began to mentally run through that million dollar question.

 _What happened?_ _  
_  
Was it really a soldier gone mad? Aemen troops don't shoot Aemen civilians, least of all when they're stationed in areas of residence. So, could it really have been racially motivated? All Aemen soldiers undergo psychological probing upon their attestation to root out symptoms of mental illness or extreme tendencies, was it possible someone had slipped through the net? What ever the case, the killing had happened and measures were now in effect to find the perpetrator. Niels' own eye in the sky, an unmanned aerial drone, was due to make regular and random passes over the area in the coming days, keeping a close watch on the settlements in the Sellenland for anything out of place, but its full attention would be on the Wankan-Aemen border. The Ministry had its skepticism on the true nature of the crime, as did Niels, which was probably the reason the High Minister ordered the Inspectorate to the Sellenland in the first place; simply for appearances, if not for the citizenry, then for interested observers of a foreign disposition.

A voice crackled through on Niels' headset, the thick Wankan accent throwing the Folcwalding off slightly. "I-V2 and I-V3, you are clear to land. Welcome to Reiterhof." 

**Olbridge Castle**  
 **Erus**

"You did _what!?_ " shouted Roseanna to the King, her dissatisfaction echoing around Olbridge Castle's library where the father and daughter were conversing. "You promised me to someone I don't even know!?" This was the first Roseanna was hearing of her betrothal to a foreign prince. "You can't possibly expect me to go through with this father!"

Reginald stood firm against his daughter's protests. "Roseanna, we are experiencing a time of crisis, we need allies and the Achesian monarchy are suitable for that role. Not only will this allow us more time, it will bring us closer, economically, politically and militarily, towards a kindred spirit in an increasingly unstable world. Perhaps I will even find wives for your brothers amongst their nobility."

"You traded me for a few drops of extra oil and some spare guns? Do I mean that little to you!?" The Princess stomped her foot. As the head of some of Aemen's largest charities, the thought that her work would suffer as a result of marriage was unbearable.

"Now you're being dramatically childish, Roseanna." Reginald retorted. "I have a kingdom to run, a kingdom which is currently suffering one of the worst oil shortages of its time. As an Aemen Princess, you will do your duty to this nation and, right now, your duty is to secure this alliance."

Roseanna was on the verge of tears, but she knew her father was right. If there was one thing she had learned during her father's forty one year reign, it was that everyone had their part to play. She moved along one of the library's vast and ancient oak bookcases, never leaving her father's sight, whilst contemplating her answer and the words she would use to convey it. "Alright..." she turned to Reginald, taking in a breath. "I'll do it. I'll marry him, if that's what I need to do, but I want to meet him first. Here, at the Castle."

Reginald's facial expression refused to change and without hesitation he gave his answer. "Fine. I will give you your first meeting. Remember, no matter how it goes, you will marry him."

"Yes, I understand that father. It's for the good of Aemen that I do."

There was a knock on the library's imposing and impressive double doors. After a moment's wait, the door opened, letting one of the Castle's attendant's creep through. "Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, the First Minister has arrived to speak with Your Majesty."

Reginald beckoned the attendant. "Send him in, the Princess and I are done."

Roseanna curtsied to her father before passing by First Minister Nathaniel Capp on her way out of the library. The First Minister bowed his head and the attendant left the two men alone.

"How have we progressed since our last meeting?" Reginald asked, sitting down on a comfortable gold-trimmed light green sofa, far away from the bookcases. In their previous encounter, the King had ordered that the Ministry of Finance was to absorb the small presence Universal Petroleum had maintained in Aemen, transferring the confiscated assets towards housing revitalization projects in Greerton.

Capp took a seat opposite the King, shuffling into a position which kept his back straight. "Yes, Your Majesty. The Council Authority contacted my office in the evening yesterday, they've received the assets and are putting them to use in the Lower Residential District."

"Good. Is there news on the Sidonian situation?"

"As you know, sir, Sylva, Aleckandor and Sidonia have formed the Septentrion League to combat the Allied Nations' possible invasion. Channels are open to secure talks with their ambassadors should we seek to-"

Reginald cut Capp off, holding his his hand up to stop the First Minister in his tracks. "I'm not interested in joining their little clique, Nathaniel, at least not for the moment. Tell them I am considering alternative options. Should the Allies invade Sidonia, I do not wish to be on the losing side."

Capp didn't stutter. He knew any expression of disagreeing with the King would be taken as a sign of insubordination; Reginald wanted a First Minister who was loyal to him above all others, not one who thought his own ideas were better heard. "Yes, sir. I'll have the Ministry of Relations stay in the loop. I have also authorized High Minister Augustus Folcwalding's request to send Inspectorate investigators to the Sellenland. The local police force there believes a renegade soldier is responsible for killing a Wankan family."

The Sellenland. Reginald remembered the time he'd ordered the invasion of the region during a particularly bloody period of Murovanka's infighting. He wasn't fond of the ethnic Wankans in the area, though to deport them simply because of who they were was bound to attract the ire of neighboring nations. "And the drone?"

"It will run random patrols skirting just on the border, sir. If the Wankans are up to something, I don't believe they will suspect us of having our inklings."

"And the oil. Have we made any progress?"

The First Minister licked his lips nervously, looking down at the floor and taking in a breath. "None yet, sir. The Ministries are exploring all possible options, though Achesia's contribution to our reserves has made us more comfortable for the time being, it's not recommended that we rely on them, especially if and when our reserves do run dry. We will continue to formulate a long-term plan but with the situation becoming more unstable all around us sir, the oil shortage may become the least of our worries."

The King rubbed his chin in thought, turning his attention to a large ancient world map of the continents of Casaterra and Meridia which was displayed on the wall above the library's bookcases. "Perhaps it will, and that may be just what we need."

 **Crimson Sea, DLS-Calypso, Tenacious-Class SSA**  
 **0945 Hours**

The papers hit the bulk head opposite their origin, a stooped over figure pounding his head on the wardroom table. Behind him the mess attendant stood at attention trying not to look at the Lordling wallowing in self-pity. The papers slid to the floor just shy of another set of feet who sat crossed under the table. With a couple sips of his morning coffee the man whom just narrowly dogged the flying papers mocked the slumped figure, scowling in his chair.

"Get over yourself." He took a few more sips before adding more salt to the coffee/cream mixture.

"Another moment in this tin can and I will rip a hole in the side and swim out into the black depths of the sea." He threw his head back and grimaced at his companion. "fuck...this...place."

"Perhaps this will teach your lordship a lesson not to make unwanted advances at the Crown Princess any longer, a stupid idea in the first place." He leaned his head in across the narrow table to almost nose contact with the other man.

"Fuck the Requients and their self center egotistical importance, thinking they can just banish me to the depths for 12 months on this hell can." He shooed away the mess-attendant with a broad wave of his hand when offered to pour him more coffee.

The other man looked around the room and at the attendant before leaning back in with a whisper so loud it was almost pointless. "Are you fucking stupid, you don't just mock the royal family thusly. Thats a good way to be banished to the depths with tin cans tied around your feet, much less in the most advanced sub surface warship in the fleet." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "You better take a lesson from this and suck it up, just because your a Warrick doesn't mean you can just do and say as you please. This isn't the North March where your daddy controls everything. This is a Royal Marine ship, there are very loyal Resolutes here who would give you up to their commanders in a heartbeat, just to see a snobby, green, rich boy like you sent to the brig for treason against the Ackular."

The lordling sat silently, a frown on his face, eyes fixed on the papers that slid back his way.

"Pick those papers up." The other man, wearing the rank of an Army Colonel spouted. The lordling by the name of Arthur Warrick looked as if he was going to refuse at first but soon leaned down to do so.

"A fine way to treat your uncle." The other man stacked the papers back together as Arthur handed them to him. Gregan Warrick was the third youngest brother of the Auck of Warrick. He had been assigned to the Calypso after his nephew the heir of Warrick was assigned here after his several indiscretions at court in Imperium. "Now do your job and review the intelligence reports, the Cancellarius expects a report from you this afternoon on the rising tensions in this area. Think of this assignment almost as a blessing. You are doing work that many just bellow your station would kill for, Here on the front lines reviewing the happenings of the other nations of the world.

Arthur reached out his hand and ripped the paper away from his uncle and crossed his legs and arched his eyes to view the paper with some new found pride in his work, as if he wasn't despising it before. After a few moments of reading he paper (longer then it would take the trained eye to decipher the information) he put the paper back down on the table.

"Increased Sylvan presence in Sidonia, still no decisive commander of the allies involved in the conflict to interdict the Allied Nations." He put the paper down and scoffed. "What do we care of the actions of the capitalists anyways. Let them have at each other, less for us to contend with." He crossed his arms and stared at the far wall.

"It is always in our benefit to know all of what the capitalists are doing. Even if we are not involved." Gregan leaned in, pushing his coffee aside. "Besides we have a new interest in this region. Our new allies in Aemen are close to this conflict and as long as there is heightened tension the council will want eyes near to it. Thats why you are here, the son of a prominent family."

"Now hear this, Lord Arthur and Major Gregan please report to 383." The 1MC suddenly sounded across the boat.

"How dare he summon me, I will..."

"You will do as your bid. Welcome to the military." Gregan stood up quickly and threw the leather folder into Arthurs lap as he walked out.

The pair wandered the corridors of the submarine for a few minutes before making their way to a closed hatch with a guard posted outside. The guard acknowledged the two and hit the intercom button. "Lord and Major Warrick have arrived Sir."

"Let them in." The speaker responded.

The guard punched in a pass code and pressed his thumb against the scanner. The doors opened with a hiss and Arthur and Gregan entered the blue let room. It was a moderate sized room for a submarine. It was about the size of a basketball court with several different computer stations spread about with sailors busy working away. In the center was a large computer table and over it stood a dominating figure of awkward height for a submarine.

Sir Warren Farran was a colonel in the Royal Army and was dressed in the standard digital green camo. The obtuse look on his face seemed to be due to the tight confines of the submersible vessel but as the pair approached Arthur remembered the colonels particular distaste for his lordly presence. Or if looking from the outside in, Arthur's arrogant temperament.

"Bad news."

Arhtur stood there without a response. It better be something important for such a lower person in rank t summon him here.

"It seems the Wankers are preparing to launch an airborne assault on Aemen." The Colonel rolled his eyes in the pairs direction. "I have requested a special address for you to speak with the Cancellarius about this matter." He handed the Lordling who stood an pause a data pad with relevant information to the assault fourth coming. The pad contained information on the makeup of the air armada and the latest intelligence about the Volksrepublik of Wanka and its military capabilities. "You might want to skim that quickly, your on with the council in 30 seconds." The colonel clicked on the monitor and camera that was across the room from the lordling. Arthur brushed himself off and nervously stood up straight and prepared to address the council. As the seconds ticked by the monitor came to life and in front of him sat the Ackular's council seated around a long table in a grand hall back in Imperium. To the left and right of the table sat the several Aucks, each head of their own ministry, one of which was his father Rigal who sat with the others, his face as blank in expression as any.

At the end of the table sat the man who sent Arthur on this mission the Cancellarius, Auck Christian of the House of Lackland. The old man of almost eighty waved his frail hand in the air and with a raspy voice beckoned him.

"Speakk." His words sounded almost a hack.

"My Lords." Arthur bowed his head. "I have urgent news from the Crimson Sea."

"Proceed."

"We have intelligence that the Volksrepublik of Wanka is preparing to launch an attack on Kingdom of Aemen in an undetermined location. They have moved three divisions towards the border – and not only moved, but airlifted. Obviously, the Wankan government believes a whole additional corps, including their veteran 101st Division, is needed for something near Aemen. It seems to be in response to the recent oil crisis, though it's fairly obvious that they are detirmined to take direct action to solve the problem."

"Most disturbing" Auck Titus of Koud the Auck of Culture uttered.

"Indeed, we most respond in support to our new allies." uttered another Auck.

"The Aequorial Battle Group is 800 miles north of the Crimson Sea on patrol. It will take 68 hours for them to re-equip, and then move into position to support Aemen." The Auck Militis informed the rest of the council.

"Move them there now then, have the logistical ships meet them."

"That gives us substantial risk to them."

"Its of no matter, make it so."

"Yes My Lord." The Auck Militis waved his hand to his aids to send the proper communiques.

"As for you Arthur Warrick... have fun on the rest of your cruise." The Cancellarius pushed a button in front of him and the screen went black with silence.


	4. Day of Murders

_**Krakenhof**_  
 _ **The Sellenland**_  
 _ **Kingdom of Aemen**_  
 _ **16:00 Hours, Day of Murders**_

" _The People's Republic of Wanka condemns the treatment of ethnic Wankers in the_ _historically Wankan_ _Sellenland region by regional authorities and urge the King to reconsider the sovereignty of what had been illegally and unjustly taken from the People's Republic."  
\- Foreign Minister Heinrich von Preisen_ _ **  
**_  
The turnout was amazing, as astounding as the speed at which the news of the Weissman family's brutal butchering traveled. Of the roughly 110,000 ethnic Wankers living in the Sellenland, nearly half were present on the streets of Krakendorf. Children, women, men of all ages were present, many having traveled several hours by car through the difficult mountain roads to reach Krakendorf. The stamping of feet, the rhythmic shouting, chanting, crying and singing echoed throughout the streets of the Sellenland's regional capital. White shirts with the printing: _"Heinrich Weissman: Unser Führer, Unser Kämpfer, Unser Vater (Our Leader, Our Fighter, Our Father"_ were everywhere. Chants of "The Sellenland is Wankan land! Return the Sellenland to Wanka!" and "Foreigners, get out of our land!" grew louder and more pronounced. The atmosphere was electrified, the tension was rising. Standing rather nervously in face of such a massive crowd were numerous Aemen riot police, watching wearily for any outbreaks of violence.

Then came the turning point. In the town square, a leading troop of demonstrators attempted to erect a stone memorial dedicated to the Weissman family. That was too much for a number of Aemen thugs who'd been waiting for their chance to strike. Knives were drawn, and blood was quickly spilt. Riot policemen proceeded to separate the skirmishers, but this was interpreted as a move to protect the thugs. The fury of the crowd grew, and the police found itself under heavy fire from rocks and other debris. Locking their riot shields together, they advanced toward the originally peaceful demonstrators who had blocked road traffic in and out of Krakenhof for over an hour now; through loudspeakers, the protestors were ordered in English and in broken German to disperse and return home. To no effect. A homemade molotov cocktail was hurled toward the police ranks, halting their advance for several seconds. The response was instantaneous: Tear gas filled the air. Had the crowd consisted of angry young men, a riot might've broken loose, however, as it consisted many old folks and children and their mothers, the demonstration was stopped in its tracks. Video cameras tracked the Sellenwankers dispersal, filming crying children and bloodied men being carried away by fellow protesters. Small fights continued to break out in Krakenhof, and mini-demonstrations were held all over the Sellenland, but the fire of the main one seemed to have been extinguished…

… although that was not exactly true. Around Sellenwanker-populated districts within the towns, and the occasional isolated hut in the mountains, men wearing dark suits and sunglasses went from apartment to apartment, recruiting angry young Sellenwankers to the newly created paramilitary group, the Sellenwanker Ober-Allgäuer Battalions (Allgäu was name of a series of mountains along the Wanko-Aemen border). "You have seen how they treat us, you have felt the injustice we face. The only language the understand is violence; we will give them violence. And trust me, soon, they will be leaving our sacred lands. If you want true freedom, join us and liberate the Sellenland." the recruiters went around saying in a rehearsed manner. The numbers swelled. Black vans carrying recruits disappeared into the mountains, where small training sites in caves and forests had been set up with the aid and funding of the Abwehr. The locations were excellent and extremely hard to detect, this partly due to a number of former Dellian insurgents assistance in re-inhabiting former Dellian caves abandoned on the onset of peace.

Here, the recruits were quickly registered and sorted to a company, then given a new home in form of a cave. Deep within the caves, firing ranges had been set up, and the sound of gunfire from the Wankan Armed Forces standard assault rifle, the Gewehr-74 (RL AK-74), vibrated the walls of the makeshift outposts. In the dense, isolated forests, with enough cover so as not to be detected by the surveillance drone above (a fact known to all Abwehr agents), guerrilla-warfare and standard infantry maneuvers were practiced. Little did they know that something similar was being done dozens of kilometers away to the south…

 _ **Outskirts of Waldorf**_  
 _ **Volksrepublik Wanka**_  
 _ **Operation Edelweiss**_  
 _ **20:00 Hours**_

Hauptmann Zweistein gritted his teeth in the cold. Up here in the mountains, temperatures had dropped to 10 degrees Celsius, a tad bit too cold for a soldier who'd spent all of his life living in the warm Wankan north, even with all this winter clothing. As part of Operation Edelweiss, the mountain combat training operation to warm up the troops for the possible upcoming deployment, his regiment was tasked with defending a section of a densely vegetated mountain from units of the 75th Mountain Infantry Regiment.

He surveyed his companies' position. The Heavy Weapons company, with its machine-guns, had a good field of vision over their entire sector, further reinforced by hastily dug-in positions and camouflaged ambush points. The thick snow and relative darkness would further hamper anyone coming up this slope. The _Gebirgsjäger_ were in for a hard time if they decided to come up this area.

Or so he thought. Looking through his binoculars, he suddenly spotted movement, a little too close for comfort. Before he could alert his men, sudden, violent salvoes swept through the entire area. Several men shrieked loudly in mock pain, having been hit by the simunition rounds. Zweistein couldn't believe it- the enemy had managed to sneak up several machine-guns to a distance close enough to keep his mens' heads down. As Zweistein alerted his machine gunners to their location, white figures rapidly rushed up the hill. The _Gebirgsjäger_ squads leapfrogged each other, one providing cover, the other storming forward. More than a dozen of his men already laid "dead" on the ground. Zweistein tried to estimate the size of the attacking force. But only more and more white-clad men appeared amidst the storm of simunition and snow. That only meant-

" _Weiss-Kommando, Weiss-Rot_ , the enemy focus point of attack is here, I count at least two battalions!"

The radio crackled.

" _Verstanden, Weiss-Rot,_ hold your position, sending in reinforcements."

Zweistein observed the roaring firefight. He was close enough to the battlefield that simunition rounds passed him at nearly 200m/s.

 _"Erster Zug, ziehen sie zurück, wiederhole, Erster Zug, ZURÜCKZIEHEN!"_ __

 _"Verstanden, Erster Zug zieht zurück."_ _  
_  
As ordered, the second platoon, clearly in danger of being overrun, pulled back. But it was a little too late. The onrushing _Gebirgsjäger_ hurled paint grenades into the paratroopers' dug-in positions, speedily overrunning the entire platoon.

 _"Feuern Sie auf die linke Flanke!"_ he ordered the heavy weapons platoon, whose heavy machine guns obliged, rotating toward the left flank before resuming their barrage. It was not so much the Gebirgsjägers' expertise in the mountains, it was more likely that the paratroopers were simply not used to the cold climate. He could feel it himself- his energy and concentration was starting to drain away, just half an hour into the battle. A company of the 2. Battalion had arrived to plug the hole that his platoon had created. However, they moved slowly- way too slowly, through the annoyingly deep snow. By the time they arrived, the Gebirgsjäger had broken through, and Zweistein's entire battalion had been split in two and were nearly surrounded. He and just a quarter of his troops managed to escape; after nearly three hours of continuous fighting in these conditions, they were thoroughly exhausted. Snow sprayed all around them as they crawled up to the rear guard, where the regiment commander permitted them to rest.

His company, now less than a platoon-sized unit, was augmented by two more nearly-destroyed companies, and was ordered to climb to a higher position up the mountain. The regiment commander, now clearly losing the fight, attempted to draw the enemy into a deadly trap. But that was not to be. The withdrawing paratroopers were so slow that they found themselves being surrounded. A simunition round smacked into Zweistein's face, just as the brigade commander gave the order to surrender.

It turned out that on most sectors, similar things had happened. The Mountain Infantry had used its speed and expertise in the terrain to sneak around and flank around the paratroopers positions, and turned the fight from a seemingly impossible regiment-versus-regiment task, both of equal manpower strength, to a complete rout.

Safeties were snapped back on. The exhausted _Fallschirmjägers_ picked themselves up, slowly dragging themselves down the mountain back to the _Kaserne_ in Waldorf. He caught up with a fellow company commander of the Red battalion.

"What damn madness was that? Did you see how they moved? And we're constantly being told that we're the best Wankan troops, apart from the _Schwarka_ (Black Cavalry) folks." His colleague muttered in frustration. "If we're gonna fight guys like these in the Sellenland, we're screwed."

"Don't worry, I heard that the 101st regularly hold such similar exercises. They know every rock on every mountain here by now. I don't think unit has beaten them yet in these mountains, not even the Light _Schwarka_ regiment. Besides, I was told that we would only be brought in as quick reinforcements, if any hostilities break out. If we're lucky, most of the fighting will be done by the 101st. Apparently, the reserves of the 26th _Gebirgsjäger_ have been called up."

"I hope we just get sent home. My wife's due in two months, and I want to be not only alive, but also present to see that-"

Zweistein perked up at that, hugging his old friend while fighting back tears. _"Gratulation! Ach, du lieber Gott_ , this is happening at seriously the wrong time…"

"That's fate, _mein Kamerad_ …"

 _ **Kronstadt**_  
 _ **Volksrepublik Wanka**_  
 _ **21:00 Hours**_

All across the country, eyes were glued onto the cheap TV's (which could only show several state-run news and entertainment programs) showing the live feed of Wanka's _Aussenminister_ Heinrich von Preisen and his Atramentari counterpart. For the third time this evening, the two shook hands, and the Atramentari representative, escorted by a unit of stony-faced bodyguards, got into his black armored car. The camera followed its departure as the news reporter, a woman covered with layers of thick make-up, recapped the events of the evening. On the channel for foreigners, subtitles ran in English:

"This evening, Atramentar and the People's Republic of Wanka have formally entered an economic and military alliance together. The two nations will now be obliged to assist each other if their national security is threatened, and have pledged to host a number of joint military drills between the respective armed forces in the coming months. Furthermore, the Atramentari has promised to invest in more efficient oil-extracting infrastructure in Wanka along with trade deals to assist in alleviating the effects of the oil crisis here. It has not been determined yet whether Atramentar will set up a military base along with stationing a permanent number of troops on Wankan soil…" 


	5. Suspect: Anglerfish

**Watchtower Eight**  
 **Aemen**

"Sir! Sir!" shouted an Inspectorate MP, running up the concrete stairs of the army's mountain-top watch tower with enviable stamina before bursting into the tower's observation room. "Commander Folcwalding, sir! News from Krakenhof!

Niels Folcwalding was spearheading an investigation into the Weissman family killings by interviewing the Sellenland watchtowers' sergeants. They all kept logs of when their stationed troops had signed in and out of the towers' boundaries. if there were any abnormalities in absence to be seen, then they would be recorded for the Commander to scrutinise. Though they had heard of the riots, Niels and his Inspectorate agents had been away from the action at the time that it had occurred and were unaware of a great deal of the details. Niels turned to his subordinate, his interest piqued. "Sub-Lieutenant, what do you have?"

"Sir, the police have broken the protest, but multiple law enforcement personnel reported strange goings-on during the aftermath. Young Wankans appeared to have just vanished from their homes without a trace. Their family members have been brought in to be questioned, but they're being extremely uncooperative, sir. We didn't think much of it, until the Owl picked up these images."

The Sub-Lieutenant handed Niels a small collection of images. The Owl was the nickname for the unmanned drone that had been deployed alongside the Inspectorate to solve the murder. Upon hearing of the riots and demonstrations breaking out around the Sellenland, the Ministry of Initiative authorised the drone's early use, so the local police forces could keep better up-to-date on the protest's development across the region. Though it only caught the tail-end of the main riot, it had kept a better eye on the smaller splinter protests that were birthed from it and inadvertently caught something else.

Niels took the images and studied them. They had been zoomed in and enhanced, though were still difficult to make out. Niels, however, could see what the focus of the pictures was; dark-suited men, who appeared to be doing their best to be hiding from the Owl, were snaking their way from building to building through each town and appeared to be leaving with young Wankans who matched the descriptions of some of those missing after the riots. Niels looked at the timestamp at the bottom of one of the pictures and checked his watch. "Six hours. Where could they have gone in six hours?"

Niels handed the photos back to his Sub-Lieutenant. "Send a report back to the Ministry and include these images. Request the allotted time for the Owl's patrols to be extended, address it to the High Minister only and mark it as Suspect: Anglerfish."

"Yes sir." The subordinate officer took the images from Niels before rushing out of the room. The Commander turned around to the observation room's desk and picked up his radio which he'd lain there upon arriving. After some tuning, Niels heard a female voice speak from the other end. "Commander, is everything alright?"

"Chief Anholts, order all Inspectorate personnel to report to Reiterhof Airfield and await further instructions. New evidence has arisen which may put us in a more active position than were were originally intended for." 

**Ministry of Initiative**  
 **Erus**

"...these are the images taken by the surveillance drone I was sent by the Inspectorate. As you can all see, the men depicted are clearly not a part of our forces or the protesting Wankans. Their awareness of the drone isn't concerning, everyone who looks at the sky would have seen it at this point. What worries me, gentlemen, is their reaction to it. They're keeping to the sides of the buildings and the blur in some of these photos suggests they're moving at some speed out in the open, perhaps darting in and out of cover." The High Minister of Initiative, Augustus Folcwalding, had immediately called a meeting of the Ministry's top officials to inform them of the unfolding situation. The men were sat in the Ministry's top floor conference room, looking through hard copies of the Owl's images. "Commander Folcwalding had the message marked as Suspect: Anglerfish."

Suspect: Anglerfish was code between the Inspectorate and the Ministry, it meant that the investigators had their suspicions that what had been seen at first glance wasn't the full story. Much like an Anglerfish lurking in the dark abyss of the ocean with its alluring light, the closer you get to the truth, the more ugly and vicious you find the creature to be.

Field Marshall Gilbert Bezuidenhout was the highest ranking military official in the room and was the first to speak. "Do we have anything else to support this, High Minister?"

"We received a message from the Achesians. We haven't yet replied because we wanted to be sure they were right, but what they're saying conveys a dire scenario. Their intelligence services seem to have uncovered a plot by Murovanka, our wonderful northern neighbors, to invade the country. I think it's safe to say that if you piece everything that has recently happened together, you end up with the Sellenland under Wankan occupation."

There was muttering in the room. Whispers of panic, Augustus thought, even Aemen's top commanders weren't devoid of fear, the fear of surprise being the most dreaded of them all. "The Achesians, however, have deployed a fleet on standby just off of our coast. They have fresh soldiers ready to aid ours should the worst come to worst. I have a horrible feeling it will."

Another general spoke up. "We must send them a message accepting their assistance."

Augustus smirked, relishing the thought of being one step ahead. "I've already had a message drafted. It hasn't been sent yet because I wanted to see what the response from this meeting would be. It's safe to say that I don't need to keep it hidden from our allies much longer."

Bezuidenhout spoke up again, he was the only military official in the room to remain calm. "Does His Majesty know about this?"

"The King is fully aware of the Sellenland scuffle and has already authorized the deployment of our own soldiers to the region. We'll be using the town of Reiterhof as our main command centre." The High Minister exclaimed. "Inspectorate forces will also remain stationed there to act as wards of discipline. The Sellenland can be bitterly cold and morale can be beaten mercilessly by the weather, Commander Folcwalding and his lieutenants will ensure that our forces will not lose sight of their objectives."

The officials nodded their heads, agreeing with Augustus, before Bezuidenhout rose from his seat, prompting the others in the room, apart from the High Minister, to do the same. "We'll leave you to your work then, High Minister, and mobilize the army for deployment. It would be my honor to serve His Majesty as the commanding officer for this campaign."

"Your application is accepted, Field Marshal. In fact, you were the first candidate I had in mind. I'll include your name as a signatory for the message to the Achesian fleet. Your co-C.O. on the Achesian side will be their Crown Prince, the future husband of Her Royal Highness, Princess Roseanna."

 **Aequorial Battle Group, Crimson Sea, 55 NM off the coast of Aemen**

It was bright and sunny, the deck of the Aequorial shine brightly as you flew over it. It was almost blindly, but thankfully some genius invented sun visors for pilots helmets or Julian would have crashed smack dab into the flight deck thus marking the most tragic disaster in Achesian Naval history. But no accidents today as the Royal Monarch Aerial Systems .88 HawkGul Multi Role Fighter touched down on the deck of the Syzygy CVN, one of the older classes of aircraft carrier in the fleet, but still deadly in the modern world. The violet markings on the wings of the MAS.88 were in contrast to the typical grey and blue pattern scheme of normal Achesian Royal Marine aviation fighters that lined the deck. Overhead a squadron of red painted MAS.88s buzzed past the carrier, these were the Prince's aerial body guard during his flight to the Crimson Sea, members of the elite aerial order, the Order of Valkyrie. As the Crown Prince's fighter was towed into its parking area, the flight deck came alive as the company of Naval Infantry ran out and into formation to receive the Prince. Armed with the standard FN SCAR-H battle rifle, they stood at shoulder arms in a receiving formation with a path down the center for the prince to walk. The Ships Skipper, the Admiral in charge of the Battle Group, and several other high ranking officers stood at the end of the path on their knees in reverence to his majesty.

Julian climbed down from the cockpit of his fighter and took off his helmet. Handing it to an attendant who stood close by he walked down the receiving line, and no sooner than when he walked past the first soldier did the whole company present arms holding their rifle in front in respect. Julian returned the salute, palm facing down, with his arm arched widely. As he dropped his hand the whole company return to shoulder arms. The Prince soon neared the kneeling officers, and beckoned them to rise.

"It is a high honor your majesty for you to visit us here, welcome aboard the Aequorial. We are at your disposal." The Admiral addressed the Prince.

"Thank you Sur, You have a fine ship and fleet here. I am looking forward to seeing your men in action. A tense situation I am afraid, but it is time the world see the dangers of threatening our interests abroad.

"Indeed my Prince." He turned to his adjutants and waved his hand. They began to make their way back to the con tower of the carrier. "If you wish to join us in the command center it is prepared for your arrival."

Julian nodded and followed the admiral who made carful sure not to walk ahead of the Prince, less he offend his majesty.

They entered the con tower of the carrier and made their way down corridors until they came to the command center. Inside was a buzz of activity as seamen were busy updating reports and boards, and annotating the latest intelligence on maps and read outs.

"What is the latest information?" Julian leaned his head over the screen table, where a digital map was projected showing the Crimson Sea, and the Aemen/Wanka boarder.

"Your majesty. the Atramentari and the Volksrepublik have formerly made their military alliance known, while the AtramentariI does not have forces presently in theater it is estimated it will take 72 hours for the first of their presence to arrive. This is all ahead of recent disappearances of ethnic Wankers in the city of Krakenhof in Sellenland. We have worked closely with Amenian intelligence and it is suspected that a ethnic uprising of sorts will begin soon in that reason. No formal connection between the Volksrepublik and these forces has been seen but it is obvious the suspect this is happening after we have already had reports of their military build up."

"So the playing field will be Sellenland?" Julian scratched his chin.

"It is reasonable to suspect but we have no reason to believe it won't go beyond that."

"How many troops are aboard the Battle Group here?"

"Only 500 Naval Infantry." The skipper replied.

"It is a shame that we were not able to arrange a propositioned force or supplies sooner with Aemen to avoid the logistical nightmare this will become. Send communication with Royal Forces High Command, and inform them of the urgency to have the Army units mobilized to Aemen immediately."

"Yes your Majesty." The skipper found one of the communication specialists and began hashing out a transmission.

"The Aemen military command has formerly accepted our offer of military assistance. They have given instructions of where we might land our forces. We hope to have Royal Army Units on the ground within 72 hours ideally. With further reinforcements arriving within a week."

"Our naval presence here is also not enough, we must request a battleship group be brought from the northern sea to here at once."

"Yes your majesty." The Admiral grabbed a piece of paper from the desk behind him. "We received this transmission as well from Aemenian Royal Office." He handed the letter to the Prince. "It seems her royal highness of Aemen wishes you to have an audience with her."

"Does she not know this is a time of war? What a naive girl." The Prince grimaced at the letter.

"If I may your majesty, she is your betrothed. And it is not a coincidence your father assigned you to lead this mission. It may be appropriate at this time to make yourself known to her?"

The Prince thought for a moment as he looked over the letter again and again. It may behove him to meet this girl now, at least the fighting has not broken out yet and it gives him a chance to show her his dedication to the protection of her father's kingdom. "Indeed Admiral." He folded the letter and placed it into his pocket. "Ready my fighter, I will fly to the capital at once."

"Aye my Prince." The Admiral bowed.

Transmissions were also sent to Aemen to prepare them for Julians arrival in Erus.

Back in the Realm thousands of troops were massing to deploy to the Aemen theater via large cargo planes. Trucks, Supplies, Armored Vehicles, Ammo, Communications Equipment, and even MWR supplies were being loaded pallet by pallet and seat by seat onto C-17s that were begin prepped for the long trip to Aemen. Only light infantry would be able to make it to Aemen in the first wave as the logistical support to move a heavy armored division so fast into theater was not there yet. But preparations regardless were being made to get as many Achesian boots on the ground as possible to deter the threat of Wanker aggression.


	6. Rette Den Bruder

" _ **Rette den Bruder"**_

 _ **Wankan-Aemen Border**_  
 _ **Operation: Rette den Bruder (Save the Brother)**_  
 _ **02:00 Hours**_

Things proceeded rapidly. The Aemen reconnaissance UAV which patrolled the border area was well within Aemen airspace, and regularly patrolled to well within range of a FLAK-16 medium-range surface-to-air missile battery which had been delivered to Waldorf Air Base several days before. There would be no warning. On the expected accusations that the Wanker Air-Defense troops had shot it down, the _Aussenministerium_ , the Foreign Ministry, would simply do the following: Deny, deny, deny. Two Wankan-made medium-range SAMs were launched right out of the blue, sending the drone spiraling to the ground.

On the Wankan side of the border, the barriers were lifted, and a pair of _Schützenpanzer-10_ infantry fighting vehicles rolled through the border, much to the surprise of the border guards on the Aemen side. The SPz-10's crashed dramatically into the Aemen border, marking the beginning of the Sellenland War, also known in Wanka as the _Sellenaufstand_ , the "Sellen-Rebellion".

Without hesitation, the 30mm guns began chattering, sending high explosive rounds into the checkpoint headquarters. A platoon of Wanker _Gebirgsjäger_ dismounted under the cover of the IFVs and ran to the building. Sporadic bursts of automatic gunfire was heard, then silence. Several minutes later, the platoon reemerged, quickly climbing into the IFV's. The platoon leader pulled out his radio.

"Alles klar, Ziel vernichtet. Es gibt keine Überlebende."

All clear, target destroyed. There are no survivors.

The message was acknowledged, and a long column of military vehicles emerged. A pair of _Spähpanzer Fuchs_ armored reconnaissance vehicles overtook the SPz-10 pair, racing ahead. Behind them followed a long column of trucks, TTP-30 armored personnel carriers, Wiesel Waffenträgers of different variants and even groups of strange-looking box-shaped tracked vehicles officially called the GTW Husky. An armored personnel carrier specially designed for the _Gebirgsjäger_ , to be used on the roughest terrain they would encounter. An entire regiment, the 75. Gebirgsjägerregiment, was on the move. Clad entirely in a new set of unmarked uniforms, although it wouldn't take anyone much time to guess who they were. Still, if anyone asked, they would simply answer: SOAB.

Traveling along the rough Bregenzer Street, several trucks and vehicles would occasionally be left behind. These squads of engineers proceeded to improve and ready the bridges and roads to ensure that they would be capable of carrying at the very least a fully-loaded cargo truck. Later on, more extensive road work projects would be undertaken- even apparently a train network- but for now, it was just all about smoothening the logistical problem which the Wankan Armed Forces would be facing in these mountains. Bridgelaying tanks lead the way, replacing the fragile old bridges which spanned the numerous rivers and tributaries with solid steel ones capable of carrying a battle tank. Behind them, a solid stream of military hardware followed.  
 **  
** **The Sellenland** **  
** **Operation: Rette den Bruder** **  
** **02:10 Hours**

 _Operation: Rette den Bruder_ was carefully planned to perfection, and was executed to near perfection. In every Sellenland town and village (excluding Reiterhof, as it is not part of the Sellenland), on nearly precisely 2:15am, so-called Sellenlander Ober-Allgäuer Battalions sprang out of the cold darkness. Each town had been allocated a battalion, which was usually made out of men and women of the native town. The units were organized in the Wankan-army style, equipped with Wankan army weapons and munitions. Numbers varied according to the size of the town. At Krakenhof, the regional capital, the so-called "Krakenhofer Battalion" numbered well over 1,000 while the Brenzlauer Battalion numbered merely 320. Officers consisted almost without exception of Abwehr and the 75. Sturmbatallion special forces who also took over the roles of radiomen, medics, mortar crews and engineer teams. So while the groups of Sellenlander men and women had down to only several days of training, some having fired their weapons only on three training occasions, they were ably (if rather frustratedly) led.

At Brenzlau, a small village close to the Wanko-Aemen border, no resistance was encountered. The police outpost surrendered after being surrounded, quickly followed by the tiny military garrison. A provisional Sellenwanker leadership took over, preparing the town for the arrival of the Wankan military assistance. Almost immediately, an open all-out recruitment drive for the SOABs was started to boost its numbers.

More or less the same thing happened in Siegen, Thüringen and Ellenburg. At some areas, the local police and military seemed to have had received word of the rebellion and had quickly fled. Sporadic exchanges of gunfire erupted, with no significant casualties on either side. The Ellenburg provisional government, at the advice of Abwehr representatives, began organizing the living spaces for Wankan military officers, as the town would be used as the main logistical and resupply base.

However, the story was slightly different in the two biggest, northernmost towns, located at vital crossroads which were crucial to the Sellenwanker war effort: Krakenhof and Echterdorf. At Krakenhof, all armed civilian or military personnel had already been alarmed and were rapidly evacuating, seeking to set up a more defensible position around Echterdorf away from the flat, resource-rich north. Fighting a small-scale rearguard action, the lack of discipline and training soon became apparent. The SOAB suffered its first fatalities, losing three men with another ten wounded when they attempted to pursue the officers. However, the town, the vital airfield and railway station was brought under complete control.

At Echterdorf, something akin to chaos erupted. The large Echterdorfer Battalion had suffered a roughly half-hour delay due to technical malfunctions, which resulted in the late arrival of several companies. This gave the Echterdorfer armed police and military garrison to organize themselves. Expecting a SOAB assault anytime soon, outposts and barricades were erected on the vital Highway 69-King Reginald Street junction, and on Highway 68. Within the town, alarm was raised; able-bodied Aemen men were handed technically easy-to-use weapons ranging from pistols to hunting rifles and shotguns. Meanwhile, much of the Echterdorf Aemen population attempted to evacuate, filling the roads of Highway 69. Aemen troops set up defensive positions on the mountains overlooking the town and junction, putting themselves in a uniquely advantageous position. They were soon joined by troops and armed police fleeing from Krakenhof.

And as expected, the assault on Echterdorf came. Several SOAB companies advanced onto the town from the south, along Highway 68; the rest aimed to capture the strategic Highway 69-King Reginald Street junction, and proceed to Echterdorf from there. The SOAB group at the junction were soon faced with a problem: the hundreds of civilian cars streaming through the road, and several snipers taking shots at the vulnerable rebels from the mountains. The present Abwehr officers decided to attempt to drive the apparently few Aemen troops from their mountain position overlooking the junction; with their numbers, it was surely possible. Several grenades sufficed to halt the civilian traffic. Cars and trucks veered off-road to avoid the burning wreckages of the destroyed vehicles, coming to a screeching halt. As screaming women, children and men began climbing out of their cars and making for whatever cover they could find, the Sellenwankers advanced. Guided patiently by their Wankan officers, the platoons went from cover to cover, in this case, vehicles and groups of Aemen civilians, who were used as pretty effective human shields. Machine guns came into range of their targets, starting to chatter relentlessly. Rocket-propelled grenades and 81mm mortars pounded the Aemen positions, out of which came a ceaseless stream of accurate, disciplined fire.

The assault on the junction was flailing, SOAB casualties were skyrocketing, the Abwehr officers saw. It was impossible to coordinate the Sellenwanker troops in their state of increasing morale depletion. Not that they were to blame for that. Hardly any of them were used to experiencing the brutality of open warfare and seeing so many of their friends, family and comrades lie dead or wounded in such a short period of time was too much for some. Wankan military medics were busy tending to the injured, the first trucks carrying the dead and the wounded began driving back to Thüringen. Traveling in the opposite direction were troops of the Thüringer Battalion, reinforcements to keep the pressure on the Aemen troops. They passed by a group of shivering, worried-looking men and women, prisoners and suspected "dangerous foreign elements" from Krakenhof and Thüringen, who were being marched by horse-mounted Sellenwankers through the Yellow Horn range, a series of over 5,000 meter high snow-topped mountains south of Thüringen. Not that it was planned to take the entire group of roughly eighty Aemeners on a long, cold trek to Ellenburg. No, it had been agreed beforehand by some lower-level Sellenwanker officers, acting contrary to the Wankan military's strict order of not harming civilians and prisoners of war. High up in the mountains, the platoon of Sellenwankers, hand-picked for their hate of the Aemen authority, would ruthlessly machine-gun all prisoners to death and would return to Thüringen, claiming an avalanche had hit them.

It won't be enough, one Abwehr officer muttered to himself frustratedly. The Aemen troops in the mountain possessed at least one machine gun, but not much other heavy weaponry. In the ideal situation, they'd have air strikes obliterate the enemy. However, the Wankan leadership did not officially want to look like they were invading their neighbour, so no declaration of war was given- and so no air support was possible. Or even, apparently, choppers to land regular Wankan infantry who'd give the bastards a serious headache. So, the only realistic option was the use of Wankan armored vehicles. Which were roughly several hours away. Unless, the Aemen troops would soon run out of ammunition? That was highly likely, given the amount of time they'd have to prepare, unless they were forewarned. Well, that remained to be seen. The Siegen Battalion, numbering around five hundred troops excluding the ones left behind to guard the small town, was navigating with some difficulty the rough high-altitude passes and paths in a mission to surround the Aemen troops on the mountain and cut off their link to Highway 69. However, estimates varied as to when they would arrive. Some said half a day; some said up to two days. The problem was the unavailability of accurate maps depicting the numerous paths through the mountains, in addition to the constant danger of avalanches and the difficulty of supplying and reinforcing them. Many newer Wankan officers, military or Abwehr, were also suffering from mild altitude sickness, having not been given enough time to acclimatize before being plunged into the Sellenland mess.

In the south, along Highway 68, the attack went much better. The defenses weren't that spectacular, though, and with the assistance of RPGs and mortars, the Echterdorfer Battalion soon found itself fighting sporadic gunfights in the town center. In the brutal house-to-house fighting, casualties mounted on both sides, but the Sellenwankers had the upper hand. Soon, Echterdorf would be crawling with young, angry armed men and women. Behind them, along Highway 68, more reinforcements were being speedily rushed in along the rough roads from the Brenzlau and Ellenburg Battalions. Everyone had received the word: The liberation was a success, but the Echterdorfers were having difficulty getting rid of the imperialist ex-occupiers.

Meanwhile, at Highways 67, 68 and 69, small platoons of SOAB troops hid amongst the mountainous terrain. They were amongst several groups stationed along the highways preparing to ambush any Aemen reinforcements. All along the roads, pairs of lightly armed scouts watched the throng of civilian cars trundling away to Reiterhof. In Reiterhof itself, numerous Abwehr agents who'd arrived weeks earlier sat at their outlook positions, watching intently for any military activity. And finally, a demolitions team composed of 75. Sturmbatallion forces who'd set up camp next to their target days ago, blew up several large sections of the Trans-Sellenland Rail. The Aemen military would be in some difficulty if they'd try to recapture the Sellenland by rail.


	7. The Realm Strikes Back

" **The Realm Strikes Back"**

 **Krakenhof**  
 **The Sellenland**  
 **Two hours after Rette den Brude**

"My God!" shouted Jerome Korst as a spray of concentrated fire pinged off of the gravelled street he was running down. The detective had been reviewing evidence from the Weissman killings before the deafening noise of fighting made him jump out of his seat. Rushing to the police station's entrance, Korst caught sight of armed militants firing their weapons and running down the Krakenhof roads. The rest, from there, is a blur of blood, bullets and the screams of innocents caught up in a very different world than what they're used to. Korst and what remained of Krakenhof's police officers had tried to evacuate the civilian population to the neighbouring town of Echterdorf with varied success, though they themselves were now stuck amongst an army of angry Sellenwankers, determined to eradicate King Reginald's grasp on the region and anyone who supported it.

Korst, armed only with an empty standard-issue handgun and his own wits, had become separated from the rest of his colleagues after encountering a group of SOABs setting up a mortar. Several of his fellows had been shot dead and now he was in danger of falling to the same fate. Though the sun's rays were beginning to shine over the horizon, it was still dark and the attack had knocked out the power running to some of the street lights, all Korst could see as he sprinted for his life were the black silhouettes of unidentifiable houses, some already bearing the scars of fighting. Eventually, Korst hit the wooden gates of a larger house at the end of the street, separated from the rest by two dozen metres. He looked over his shoulder to see the bobbing of torches attached to the barrels of assault rifles chasing him, coming ever closer with their bearers shouting aggressively in Wankan.

He had no choice. Out of ammo and options, Korst scrambled over the wooden gate, hoisting himself up and over the top and continuing his run down the short driveway. It wasn't until he reached the front door that he realised where the rebels had cornered him at; the Weissman residence, where this had all started. Desperate to escape, Korst began smashing the heel of his foot against the sturdy door, hoping that once he was inside, he could use the house to hide in and possibly even subdue his attackers. That, however, was not to be the case.

Two gunshots rang through the air, pinging off of the house and leaving clear, visible holes in its brickwork. Korst spun around to see four of his attackers shining their torches in his face. Rather than shooting him on the spot, one of the Wankans smacked Korst across the face with his rifle butt, sending him tumbling to the ground. All four men then ganged up on the detective and began kicking and punching him into submission. Korst tried to protect himself in the best way he could, but the pain of being assaulted from all sides was starting to become unbearable. Suddenly, as Korst began to feel himself losing consciousness, his attackers became distracted, yelling in a frightened tone at something in the distance. Korst didn't look, afraid it was a trick to get him to expose his face, but his limited knowledge of Wankan meant he understood some of the words they were saying.

"Bombs! We're being attacked by jets!"

After an exchange of words at a rapidly fast and panicked pace, too fast for Korst to decipher, the Wankans picked Korst up and dragged his bruised body unscrupulously away from the Weissman house and into the street. As he looked towards Krakenhof's centre, Korst saw enormous explosions and bursts of flame accompanied by the sound of engines soaring overhead. As he was being taken towards his unknown destination by his new captors, Korst wondered if they knew the sort of horrors the King would subject the Sellenwankers to should they lose, because if they didn't, then the Royal House of Olbridge would ensure that they would always remember what happens when you defy the monarchy.

 **Reiterhof Airfield, Aemen**

The sky was filled with C-17s waiting in patterned flight to land at the Aemenian airbase. The dark gray aircraft bore the flag of the Realm of Achesian and there rondel of the Royal Army Air Corps. The planes landed one by one and as they arrived they taxied to a special section of the flight line that was designated for the offloading of equipment. The first few aircraft carried the soldiers, three maneuver brigades, and one Theater Support Group. These soldiers were quickly ushered into containment areas where they received their in country briefs from their chain of command, received a hot meal, and were issued equipment such as ammo. Each brigade then were taken to their own separate holding areas where they would await their equipment to be offloaded.

Second off the aircraft was the air defense artillery: Machbets, and POPRADs rolled off quickly and assumed defense positions around the staging area to provide any air cover incase of attack. Along with the ADA several already loaded and equipped M1117 Armored Security Vehicles rolled to the perimeter of the staging area to provide ground defense as the Helix formed and prepared to move out.

As all the other equipment was begin fielded off the aircraft and formed into rank with the rest of the Helix, the command team prepared the movement of the "Delphian" Helix as it had been named. This combat helix was formed around three infantry brigades which were the quickest to deploy to theater. Supporting the three brigades would be the aforementioned Theater Support Group, and several squadrons of helicopters both attack and utility. The naval battle group off the coast would provide air support as needed as well. The primary means of movement for the infantry Helix would be motorized in their MRAP MaxxPros. This makes them soft targets for any armor but means for defend against any metal behemoths have been taken with both handheld anti-tank weapons, attack helicopters, and field artillery.

"Wankan militia have moved to take these towns here an here." An older man dressed in Achesian battle dress pointed towards a couple clusters of populations on the map of the Sellenland. "At the towns of Krakenhof and Echterdorf they are encountering more resistance than they expected, and the battle wages on there.

"What is our first move M'lord." A more junior officer who stood at rest near the map enquired.

"We wait for the word from the Aemenian army to make our move." The senior answered. Almost instantly the previous more junior officer scoffed. The older man took an aversion to this outburst and stood up from the map he was previously bent over. The young Knight Captain snapped to attention as his senior approached. The older man- a Rector by the clasp on his shoulder- stood with his face uncomfortably close to the young mans. "I do not like waiting on the eve of battle any more than the next man young Sur, but I will not be questioned by a junior so green that his face still reeks of his mothers placenta!" With the last lash of his words the Rector's fist raked across the Knight Captain's face. The young man lay bleeding on the deck before he sprang to his feet quickly not wanting to show weakness or pain in the face of his peers. "Now, we wait for the word of these Aemenians to move, but when we do your Battalions better be beside me, or I will bring your head back to the Ackular in shame, and I will ensure your families labor as drudge for the rest of eternity." He sat down in a chair that was set up within his command tent, he pulled out his nickel plated M1911 and polished it with his handkerchief from his pocket. "Go and prepare your men, may you honor the Ackular's name." Rector Nickolaus Leopold leaned back in his chair and stared at the map as if he was in a daze. But before he could slip into oblivion and leave this world behind to its devices his aide de camp ran in with a SAT phone.

"M'lord, Acklium Julian the VII wishes to speak with you." He held out the phone.

The old rector swiped it from his hand and cleared his raspy throat before addressing his Prince. "Yes my Prince."

On the other end of the line Prince Julian was driving to the Aemenian castle. "Rector Leopold, are our forces landed?"

"Yes my Prince, we are staging now, will be combat ready in four hours. Do we have word on our mission."

"The mission is the same as always Rector, filling the soil with the blood of those who go against the Dread Lord. The specifics will come soon, I am due to meet with the King of Aemen shortly."

"Of petty Kings I am not concerned my prince, just the glory of my lords of Requient."

"Indeed, but do not undermine our Aemenian allies Rector, it is not your place."

"My apologies my Prince, it was above my station to make such a statement."

"Indeed Sur, ready our troops, do not contact me until I contact you." And with the last words of the Prince the line went dead.

 **Flight Deck of the** _ **Aequorial**_ **, Achesian Sea, Off the Coast of Aemen** **  
**  
It was a surreal sight, hundreds of men on their knees with the dark moon above their head. Through them walked two Praetors, each chanting the same chant, in their hands different parts of a goat. One held a leg of a goat fresh cut, the other a half of a goats head by the horn his fingers grasped. Each chanted the following sacred prayer as they spread goats blood on the foreheads of the knelt worshipers.

"Blessed is this sacrament on our placid island of ignorance, thankful are we to receive the apathy of the Elder... May the Dread Lord smile his summer upon our voyage on the black seas of infinity... We were not meant to sail so far, but through your clemency we continue... On this day in thankfulness we bind ourselves to your will... to this end we bout with those who you shall one day banish to oblivion... Let this blood be an addendum to our fury."

As the last sliver of blood was spread on a kneeling man the two Praetors walked to the front of the formation of men. There they knelt to the deck of the carrier and began to draw in blood a symbol. In mortal words this symbol is hard to describe, only the truly touched or unfathomably mad could grasp its curves or breaks. But as the last of the blood was spread in perfect symbolism the two Praetors leaned back and in the most unnatural of ways pressed their necks backwards to their eyes truly looked to the heavens. And to the unaccustomed eye their bodies trembled in what could only be deaths embrace, but soon they became still and chanted for all of the ocean to hear.

"Xalafu...Xalafu...Xalafu...Xalafu...Xalafu...Xalafu..."

Only a Praetor could say that name when invoking him, the name of God.

The energy was palatable, and the men who were once on their knees stood with a ferocity only recognized in history. They screamed at the top of their lungs as the energy passed through them, and as it settled they looked around to each other with a tenacity. They were ready for battle.

The MAS.88 Lindworms soon lined the deck of the Aequorial, each prepped for launch armed with all sorts of missiles and bombs, prepared for the first Achesian strike in this war. The attack would be lead of with the 10 MAS.88E Electric Lindworms, the Electronic Warfare variants striking any enemy radar outposts located in or around Sellenland with HARM missiles. This would mask the main assault by 34 other MAS.88A Lindworms who would attack any Wankan militia positions within Sellenland starting with those outside of the main population centers (but not excluding them). Targets in and around Krakenhof and Echterdorf would be prioritized with armored targets meeting the brunt of JDAMs and other smaller bombs, infantry targets would be met with cluster bombing, and large masses of enemy targets would be met with a cruse missile.

The fighters launched at 1am in the morning on the day after the original Wankan assault. They flew low over the water until they reached the land when they transition to weapons altitude, trusting their stealth to keep them away from prying eyes. This is when the 88E's launched their HARM missiles at the radar targets within Sellenland. As those missiles went to target, the rest of the main assault began to break off into flights and carry our their individual mission packets. Bombs, missiles, and even the occasional 20mm guns roared through the air over Sellenland that night, and the skies ran red.

 **Reiterhof Airfield**  
 **Aemen**  
 **Eight hours after Rette den Bruder**

Despite it not being a part of the Sellenland region, Reiterhof's proximity to the fighting had changed it dramatically; the army had built barricades and checkpoints, renovated buildings were being used as outposts and command centres whilst the town hall had become the sleeping quarters for the city's newly created military garrison. On the town's outskirts at the even-more fortified airfield, the Aemen Air Force was hard at work trying to get a grasp of the situation. The highways had been temporarily buzzing with activity from fleeing civilians who were desperate to escape, some with bullets lodged into their cars' chassis and their tyres flat on one, or even both, sides. It was a wonder that some of the Sellen-Aemen had ever managed to escape the Wankan advance at all.

Commander Niels Folcwalding and Field Marshal Gilbert Bezuidenhout had commandeered the airfield's control tower along with a flurry of operators, radio experts and technicians all monitoring the situation. Both men and their subordinates stood looking over a map that had been rolled out over the top of a dis-used control terminal. Bezuidenhout turned to Niels, rubbing his chin. "You're telling me we have no military personnel around this area..." Bezuidenhout circled the area from Krakenhof down to the Elbe River with his finger. "...at all?"

Niels didn't answer. He'd been wondering how this had all happened so quickly without the Ministry knowing a single detail about it. It must have been on the cards for the Wankans as soon as the oil crisis started. "I'm not sure Field Marshal. The Wankans shot our drone down right before this entire mess unfolded and all radio frequencies to any of our watchtowers have been cut. Much of the Sellenland is shrouded in the fog of war to us. However, we do know that Echterdorf is barely holding out. Earlier Aemen and Achesian airstrikes on occupied territory near the town reported that fighting still lingers on, though unless we send aid to them, we can expect the position to fall entirely."

Bezuidenhout raised an eyebrow at the Folcwalding. "Shot down? They have that kind of hardware?"

"We know Murovanka is supplying them with military grade technology. They're denying it, of course, but it's painfully obvious for all to see. Diplomatically the Wankan military isn't involved, their government hasn't issued a declaration of war, there's nothing to suggest to the world we're fighting the soldiers of another nation."

The Field Marshal rubbed his forehead. "So they've riled up the Sellenwankers and are giving them the means to take the region from us."

"That's the only conclusion the Inspectorate can come to, sir." Niels explained. There was a moment of silence as Bezuidenhout and his commanders looked over the map before a soldier entered the room, marching up to the group of officers and saluting to the Field Marshal, taking Bezuidenhout's attention away from the map.

"Sir! Our armoured columns have just called in. They and our mechanised infantry regiments have arrived just north of Reiterhof. They're awaiting orders."

The Field Marshal nodded, "Thank you, Lance Corporal." before returning to the map. After a moment of silence longer, Bezuidenhout stepped forward, his subordinates all watching to see his strategy unfold. He pointed along the line representing Highway 69, running his finger up to Echterdorf. "Send the armoured columns and mechanised infantry along Highway 69, we need a stable foothold in the Sellenland so we can bring this conflict to even ground. Echterdorf is still resisting, so we need to relieve it as soon as possible before the Wankans can fortify their position."

The commanders surrounding the Field Marshal nodded in synchrony whilst Niels looked on at the battle plan Bezuidenhout was laying out. "Krakenhof and Thüringen will be the next objectives. With Echterdorf secure we can focus on splitting their territory and advancing on a position they can't reinforce. We'll secure both towns, the regional airport and the oil fields. With the airport, we'll have a strategic advantage. It means we can resupply without having to trek up from Reiterhof. There are reports that the railways have also suffered significant damage, so we'll deploy combat engineers to repair the tracks once both towns are secure. With the airport and the railways, we can consolidate our hold on the northern half of the region and sweep south towards Brenzlau."

Bezuidenhout's entourage muttered their agreement before Niels interjected. "And the Achesian helix, sir?"

The Field Marshal's lips curled in distaste as Niels mentioned the Aemen allies. Bezuidenhout came from an old family with traditional, and in some cases xenophobic, ways, but his career as a military officer and his duty to the King and his country came before his prejudice against foreigners, which was something he intended to use against the Wankans. Bezuidenhout swallowed his pride and replied without letting his stance on the issue run away with him. "I'll talk with their commanders, but the main priority for the Achesians is to support us. I'm going to be sending fresh airstrikes ahead of the advance to soften any major resistance on 69, I'd like some Achesian fighters to support us on that whilst their troops and vehicles stay behind our armoured columns. Ideally, we can split off and have them attack Echterdorf whilst our forces assault Krakenhof."

Bezuidenhout turned to his subordinate officers, making some of them snap up to attention out of a force of habit. "Make no mistake, gentlemen, the Sellenland will be in His Majesty's hands once more. This war is a sleight to the King's hospitality, so if these terrorists aren't happy with that, perhaps they will be more swayed by the wrath of His Majesty's Armed Forces instead."


	8. Theatrics

**Erus, Crown Guard Barracks, Aemen**

The profile of the MAS.88 made it look like a violet dragon swooping in on its prey. The stealth features of the aircraft looked fearsome enough but in edition its four wingmen in red MAS.88s looked like the harbingers of the end times cometh. As the landing gear of the violet livery fighter jet sat down on the blacktop it wheeled around and taxied to its designated position on the flight line. Acklium Julian immediately opened his canopy to take in the sights of his betrothed country. It was a splendorous Realm that would be a great asset to his father and in turn to him when he ascended to the throne.

His four guards pulled behind him on the flight line and descended from this cockpits first. They did not look like the typical fighter pilots garbed in flight suits but rather knights dismounting their steeds. They are wore matt red kevlar plate body armor that resembled the traditional martial uniform of a knight. On their chest plates was the symbol of the House of Requient with opposite the flag of the Realm. Their shoulder plates each had the emblem of the Order of Vanguard, the mort feared Knightly order of the Realm, known for producing the most talented warriors. Unlike a normal pilot as well they did no remove their helmets, but rather the optical apparatus on their helmets changed from flight position to that which behooved more aid to ground combat: night vision option, x3 magnification, target acquisition, and rifle mounted camera displays. At their side the carried the standard FN-SCAR-H which specialized optics that fed into their helmet displays. On their belts was the famous Achesian blackened steel combat sword, and edged weapon made famous during the Sun Offensive in 1953 when Auck Derral Seplich ordered his company of 100 knights and soldiers after 3 days of endless fighting to conduct the first sword charge in modern history. The Seplich Hundred killed over 350 colonial combatants during this charge and won back a key supply depot for the Realm.

The four knightly guards donned their black shoulder capes and formed up around Julian's fighter. In one of their hand was Julians own cape, black with gold trim and the house of Requient's coat of arms on the back. As he stepped own he wore similar garb but rather colored in a deep purple, his cape extended to the ground and as he walked to the cars waiting for him he handed his helmet to one of his guards. He approached the vehicles waiting for him and his guards ushered him into one of the parked cars.

 **Olbridge Castle**  
 **Erus**

"Yes... in a fighter jet...? He likes to make an entrance... yes... thank you Lieutenant."

The Heir Apparent, Prince Alexander, finished speaking on the phone to one of the officers at Seghers Moore, the Crown Guard Barracks that had just received the Crown Prince of Achesia. The Prince was sat on the leather dark green sofa in the splendid antiquity of the castle's Hyrian Room in his formal military uniform with full honours and medals. Upon receiving word that Julian had accepted Roseanna's invitation, Reginald had set to work a plan that would familiarise the Crown Prince with the more immediate members he'd likely be dealing with; Prince Alexander was to meet Julian on the castle's steps and stroll with him up to the King's Study, showing off the interior of Olbridge as he went and making various attempts at small talk. Reginald would then greet Julian once he and Alexander arrived at the Study, where Alexander would leave the two to discuss the Sellenland war, the Sidonia conflict, the two royal families and, of course, the marriage. Finally, Reginald would escort his soon-to-be son-in-law to the Olbridge Estate Gardens, where Julian would meet Roseanna for the first time. Even the weather was permitting as a cloudless morning had given way to a beautiful blue sky with the sun illuminating Erus and all of its brilliant colours.

On placing the phone back on to the hook, Alexander stood up and turned to see his father looming in the doorway of the Hyrian Room, also dressed in his formal military attire. Alexander was startled but quickly regained his composure, bowing to the King. "Father. Crown Prince Julian arrived at Seghers Moore an hour ago. He's been ushered into a car and is on his way to the castle, he'll arrive imminently."

Reginald nodded, his facial expression unchanging. "Excellent. Are you prepared to receive him?"

"Yes father. I know my role."

"Good. Wait downstairs in the lobby so there are no delays. Once the car pulls up and the staff open the door, greet him warmly. I will be in the study reviewing this Sellenland debacle until you arrive."

"Of course, father." Alexander said, bowing again in respect. As Reginald turned to leave, the Prince spoke up once more. "Father, if I may ask..." the King stopped and looked back, not with frustration or reluctance, but with an inquisitive and expectant air. Alexander continued in his thought. "Why not simply have Prince Julian meet with Roseanna? What's the purpose of the rest of these... theatrics?"

The King chuckled, a rare moment of relaxation for anyone, even his children, to witness. "To comfort, to placate, to distract. The Crown Prince has come directly to us from his troops. Pulling a commander prematurely from war will leave him agitated and frustrated, he hasn't yet achieved what he set out to do. Though if he did not meet Roseanna now, then he wouldn't until the wedding. Today's introduction to me and you will give him, and us, a chance to find common ground."

Alexander nodded slightly, acknowledging his father's words. "I understand."

Reginald's expression changed back to what he was infamous for; that stern and authoritarian glare. "You will only truly understand when I am buried beneath the ground and it is you who occupies my throne, wears my crown and rules my kingdom. Now, we've delayed long enough. Go to the lobby and await the Crown Prince." Reginald turned, walking down one of the castle's goliath and extravagant corridors towards a gilded staircase leading to the ancient structure's upper floor. Alexander, now left to his own devices, vacated the Hyrian Room and made his way towards the lobby, planning out the most impressive route he would take the Crown Prince along to reach the Study.

 **Afkomst Park Way**  
 **Erus**

Two unmarked black cars made their way through the city streets, the lead one contained Crown Prince Julian whilst the one behind it transported Inspectorate agents who had the Crown Prince's protection in mind; though Erus was the centre of all things Aemen, the King wasn't taking any chances after becoming aware of the Wankan rebels within his own borders. The Crown Prince, however, would see that if there were any foolishly brave or fanatically dedicated militants with his death at the forefront of their mind in Erus, the Inspectorate car behind him would be the least of their worries.

As his car drove through the winding streets, over battered road tarmac and the cobbles of the city's historical quarter, the Prince would notice the incredible number of armed Crown Guardsmen that seemed almost out of place in such a vibrant and colourful city, especially on a day like today, where the clear sky and the unobstructed sun emphasised Erus' semi-olde world charm. It wasn't until he reached Afkomst Park Way, a street which skimmed the edge of the city centre's park, that he realised how jarring Erus could truly be. Looking out across the park, Julian would see Crown Guard initiates and their supervisors doing physical exercise and sports on one side of the park specifically reserved for them on their training days, whilst on the other were shoppers carrying their full-to-the-brim bags, workers on their lunch break, children enjoying the sun with their parents and teenage couples spending time together. To most outsiders, putting such a normal seeming life side-by-side with an extremely regimented one would seem incredibly odd, but not the Aemen, they were used to it after forty one years of Reginald's rule.

As the pair of cars left Afkomst Park behind, they came upon an increasingly affluent looking neighbourhood. Regular citizens decreased in number, being replaced by Crown Guardsmen equipped with bigger and deadlier firearms. Finally, the cars stopped outside a pair of enormous golden gates with spotless white concrete pillars and white cinderblock walls stretching in both directions out of view. The Guardsmen on the gates pushed them open, keeping their eyes on the car before saluting as it passed on to the estate's grounds. Meticulously trimmed grass, elaborate stone statues of different men wearing the same crown, squads of heavily armed Guardsmen on patrol and the imposing gargantuan visage of Olbridge Castle. The two cars pulled up on to the white gravel outside of the castle's main entrance. Prince Alexander stood at the top of the small flight of marble steps that led up into the lobby with his personal armed escort standing alongside him. As the driver the Julian's car opened the Crown Prince's door, Alexander's escorts saluted, whilst the Heir Apparent smiled and strolled down the steps of Olbridge to greet his equal.

 **Olbridge Castle, Erus**

It was a beautiful country, Aemen, the sites and sounds were a far cry from the loud, metallic, and engrossed city of Imperium. There in the mega city he spent most of his adult life tirelessly for the Realm and his subjects. Amen reminded him of his days in the countryside at his families estate of Drachall in the east of Imperium province. There he grew up around most of what he saw now, the wind, trees, the nobility flaunting around in the gardens and meadows. It was a beautiful place, a place he cherished growing up with his mother, he lived there until his father summoned him at the age of 11, when he began his lessons of how to be a just Ackular.

He remembered his mother recollecting the story of when she first learned she was the marry Julians father, and the angst she felt, being taken from Knightglen in the Avonhold and whisked away to Imperium to marry the crown prince. She always impressed upon Julian that as royalty it is not our right to marry for love, but rather to marry for the betterment of our families, and subjects. That was something Thelicity always taught her children as they relaxed in the gardens of Drachall: duty, honor, family. The three pillars of Achesion life. She was the best of mothers: graceful and kind. Julian was saddened by his mothers current melancholy. Since Auck Jacob Avondale his grandfather died she had not left Drachall, Its been four years. He only got one day with his mother before he left to fight in Aemen, she remained him of the strength that he had within him, and that no matter the circumstances, one day he and his new wife would love each other as all others do.

The cars soon drove past more familiar and comfortable sites, men with guns. Presumably they were getting close to the castle, it would be time to impress upon his new in laws the dedication both he and the Realm had for their house. He was soon let out of the car by one of the Aemenian guards. His knight guards got out first and scared the area, Julian however stepped out before he was told it was ready, not paying any mind to the overcautiousness of his retainers. As he returned the salute from the Aemenian guards handed his own guards his pistol, Keeping only his sword at his side. As he stepped up onto the steps of the castle his guards went to follow him but he held his hand out and commanded they stay. He made his way to the door of the lobby where his Aemenian counterpart waited for him.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you Prince Alexander." 


	9. Ad Victorum

**Reiterhof Airfield, Aemen**

The radio set crashed to the ground with such force that its remaining bits bounced into the air taking out a workstation across the command tent. A radio technician jumped up from that very station to attention, joining the other Knight Captains who stood like statues as Rector Leopold threw a box belonging to a radar set to the ground.

"Those bastards expect me to follow BEHIND them into battle?" He grasped the communique in his hand as he then flipped the table and map over. "These Curs wouldn't know how to even begin to win a war, I have lived in constant glorious combat for the Realm since I was old enough to fuck and make more warriors. Those bastards now even carry guns of their own, yet these Aemenians expect me to follow behind them in battle?! No it won't be so..." He collected the mess of ma and table from the ground, his commanders huddled around to view the masters mind at work. ..."We will make our own front, here down route 68. We will take the this shanty town called Siegen and raise the banner of the Realm over it, then we will take the fight down south to the boarder where we will drive out the Wankers and make them want in their own lands. The Aemenians can cry in the north as we take the glory." He shoved the map into one of his Captians chest and took in a deep breath. "Txomin, you will take your Legion in the vanguard, clear the route of any swine as you move. Izotz your Legion will be the center, and I'll be damned if your families reputation holds I will ensure this is the last command you all will receive and your family will be reduced to the Efficat and unclog my shit from the privy." The Knight-Commander slumped his head as he acknowledged. "Aleksandr, take what helicopters you have in addition to the Naval Air Wing helicopters and ferry your legion here..." He pointed to a location in the mountains slightly to the north of Seigen." You will lay in wait there for the main assault to begin, then we will catch them on two fronts..." He looked around at his commanders as he let it sink in. "Begin." He barked and they rushed off to drive their legions into position.

Both of the legions moving down route 68 mounted up on their MADS.1128 "Mora" MRAPs accompanied by several units of M60A3 light tanks as well as interspersed M1117 armored cars. Leading the formation by several miles would be recon units consisting of Fennek Recons scoping the route as well as overhead ARH-70 recon helicopters. Air defense and field artillery would follow within the convoy and provide support when needed. Close air support would be provided by AH-1Z Vipers operating out of Reiterhof Airfield and off of the Aequorial when appropriate. Aleksandr's Legion, the I Legion of the Charlie Infantry Multitude, III Front of the 67th Light Order, West Army would immediately load up onto Army NH90 utility helicopters and Marine AW101 helicopters to prepare to move to their flanking position. In the air high above all this the MAS.88As after the air assault would provide combat air patrol.

All of this movement would come at a loud and sudden surprise to the Aemenian allies who expected to have the Achesians safely at their back where they could be controlled. However Rector Leopold had another thing in mind. He was a man of pride, and those types of men follow behind no one.

 _ **Outskirts of Echterdorf**_  
 _ **The Sellenland**_  
 _ **ca. 06:00 Hours**_

Abwehr officer "Hauptmann Sikovsky" studied his map of the Sellenland as he sat next to the driver in a truck carrying troops of the third company of the Ellenburger Battalion. He hated this assignment. He'd barely had several days to acclimatize before all hell broke loose, having vomited nearly a dozen times already. Ceaselessly training the SOAB recruits in altitudes averaging just under 2,500 meters high had taken his toll on him. Sikovsky was originally the 3rd companies radio operator, taking control of the company after its commander and second-in-command had been hospitalized a day before the liberation due to a severe case altitude sickness.

After around three hours on the road the truck finally rambled onto the deserted streets of Echterdorf. The town was still pretty much in one piece. However, signs of the raging conflict were everywhere. Bullet holes pockmarked buildings wherever one looked, the occasional dead, both Wankan and Aemen, lying in pools of blood. Knocked-down lamp posts, electrical wires, glass and other debris littered the streets. In the distance, one could hear the machine guns barking, the grenades going off.

Sikovsky helped the driver navigate his way to the drop off point. At their assembly area, he was met with another exhausted Abwehr officer who held a cigarette in his mouth. His breath reeked of Schnaps.

"Hauptmann Sikovsky? Leutnant Astkoff". Both men saluted. Astkoff pulled out a crumpled map, pointing to a red line close to where they currently were. The lieutenant explained gruffly.

"We got news that Aemen and Achesian reinforcements have started to land in Reiterhof. We're running several hours behind schedule- we need to kick them outta the mountain, and establish our planned defensive positions as soon as possible or we risk losing what we gained today.

Here's the plan. The Aemeners up there are clearly running outta ammunition. We've gathered a shitload of smoke grenades which we'll use to get close to the foot of their positions. Your men will lead the assault on the west flank. Wait for my signal. Remember, no matter what, don't turn back. We're committing literally every man and woman in the area to this fight. _Viel Glück_!"

With that, the lieutenant ran off. Sikovsky gathered his platoon commanders, briefing them of their upcoming task. Barely fifteen minutes later, white smoke formed a neat screen, shielding Sikovsky's path from the Aemen gunners.

 _"KOMPANIE, AUSSCHWÄRMEN!"_ _  
_  
Bullets randomly passed through the smoke, punching dirt up all around his men. However, the smoke did work as planned. Sikovsky joined the first wave that reached the foot of the hill, watching the first men negotiate their way up the rocky pathway. On other parts of the mountain, the Sellenwanker militiamen and women streamed up the slope. SOAB casualties were heavy, but for the first time, they were in a position to dislodge the Aemen defenders.

Indeed, the situation looked grave for the Aemeners as the fresh Sellenwanker reinforcements battled their way up past a dwindling number of bullets. Grenades cleared once-solid defensive positions. Now it was the Aemen troops turn to retreat further into the unwelcoming terrain. Taking cover beneath a several rocks, Sikovsky paused and coughed loudly. He struggled up, setting his Gewehr-74 sights on an Aemen position just a hundred meters away. Two bursts of gunfire forced their heads back down. The captain half-collapsed to the ground, physically exhausted. His eyes wandered up to the sky, where several black birds appeared, flying in perfect formation towards them…

At that moment, his radio crackled.  
 _  
_ _"Alle Achtung, feindliche Kampfjets! Feuer frei, Feuer frei!i!"_

Wankan Abwehr officers and military personnel, along with a small number of trained Sellenwankers, stopped in their tracks, staring in horror at the sky. Quickly, "Pfeil" (Strela-3) MANPADS were brought up, their crews standing ready.

From the air, Aemen fighter jets swooped down dangerously low, dropping their payloads onto the Wankers, sending missiles exploding amongst their midst. Cannon fire roared in tandem with the engines as they assaulted the Sellenwankers with gunfire. Meeting them were small numbers of Pfeil heat-seeking surface-to-air missiles which attempted to pick the warbirds out of the sky. While the airstrikes didn't actually produce massive numbers of casualties, due to the proximity of the fighting which made friendly fire very likely, it was the psychological impact which left its mark. To most of the ground troops in the dust, surrounded by blood and bodyparts, the aggressors had escaped unharmed and gave them a sense of helpless vulnerability.

And so, despite the encouragement and threats by their officers, the Sellenwankers abruptly halted their assault. On some sectors, troops began pulling back. Soon, the battle had been reduced to one of occasional exchanges of gunfire as the Wankan military leadership attempted to regroup the militia. Gained positions were consolidated. The wounded and dead were carried off, the tired and exhausted deployed to "home guard" duties. Their day definitely wasn't over yet.

As the hour ticked by, more and more Wankan Army troops from the 75th Mountain Regiment arrived, replacing the depleted SOAB units. Wiesel Ozelot armored weapons carriers provided air defense around the area with their short-range air-to-air missile launchers, occasionally engaging harassing groups of Aemen fighters. By 1000 hours, 8 hours since the start of the rebellion, an entire reinforced battalion numbering around 600 combat troops had arrived in addition to hundreds of support personnel and were establishing positions at the intersection. An hour later, at 11am, light artillery and mortars rained shells on suspected Aemen holdouts, followed by a cautious advance of the trained and experienced Wankan _Gebirgsjäger_. Box-shaped armored personnel carriers, the GTW-Huskys, lead the way upwards, followed by the mountain troopers. Not only were they better trained; they were far better equipped than the SOAB militiamen, their bulletproof vests providing protection from the varied small-arms fire of the Aemen troops. There would be no more delays; the Aemen troops would have to be cleared off this mountain, or the entire operation would be put in severe danger. At the intersection behind them, troops of the remaining two regiments of the 75th sped by to prepare defensive positions around Krakenhof.

 **Ellenburg** **  
** **ca. 12:00 Hours**

The cold morning had arrived, and the newly-established _Sellenpolizei_ made of primarily men and women not fit for combat quickly went to work. Police cars, taken from the Aemen police force, drove slowly throughout the "liberated" Sellenland towns, loudspeakers droning ceaselessly in Wankan.

 _"DAS VOLKSRAT ORGANISIERT EIN REFERENDUM! BÜRGER DES SELLENLANDES, KOMMT ZUM RATHAUS UND STIMMT AB!"_ _  
_  
("The People's Council is holding a referendum! Citizens of the Sellenland, come to the town hall and vote!")

Soon, the first Wankans arrived. They found that they had three choices: a) Incorporation into the Volksrepublik Wanka; b) Return to the pre-1970s status (semi-autonomous state of Wanka); c) Remain with Aemen; d) Declare independence

Particular care was given to where the referendum posters were hung up, and where the police cars drove through. The sectors heavily populated with Aemeners, which were now guarded closely by SOAB militiamen, were completely avoided. Everything was in Wankan, as a result, only those who spoke and understood Wankan knew exactly was going on. Still, quite a few Aemeners caught the gist of it and attempted to get to the town hall where the voting was taking place. Those who did found themselves facing SOAB troops who gruffly shouted in broken English that "Foreigners are not allowed to vote".

Meanwhile, the Ellenburg population was subjected to a constant show of power; unmarked military vehicles contained with grim-looking Wankan troops ceaselessly streamed through the little town toward the front. The roads connecting the Wankan town of Waldorf to Ellenburg was filled to the brim with grey Wankan armor, heavily interspersed with mobile FLAK-13 short range SAM systems. Ellenburg itself was temporarily guarded by a battery of FLAK-13's while engineers set up the components for the immobile FLAK-9 surface to air missile system which would provide defense not only against enemy aircraft, but also incoming missiles. So paranoid was the Wankan command of the Aemen air threat that hundreds of mobile SAM vehicles (SA-series) were being pilfered from existing divisions to provide security for the thousands of Wankan troops secretly invading their neighbour.

 **Mountains along Highways 67, 68, 69** **  
** **ca. 13:00 Hours**

Spread along the entire lengths of the three main highways connecting the Sellenland to Aemen were hundreds of hand-picked groups of Sellenwanker troops. This force was called the _Sondereinsatzkräfte Sellenland_ (SEKS, known colloquially as SEX), who would wage a campaign of guerrilla warfare on the Aemen army. The basic unit consisted of eight men. Two carried _Uran-7_ (RPG-7) rocket launchers, one carried a machine-gun, one carried a "Pfeil" short-range MANPAD, and another four were riflemen (including the commander). Dozens such squads lined, along the three highways in well-prepared ambush positions. These teams were instructed to target lightly armed vehicles or transports, as the rockets were unlikely to penetrate the armor of the Aemen MBT's. Their instructions were to harass and delay approaching Aemen military convoys, fleeing when attacked only to resurface later on to continue the fighting.

In addition to that, sniper teams consisting mostly of Abwehr and Wankan Army personnel were spread mostly at random throughout the the mountains. They would do as much damage as they could with the puny bullets of their sniper rifles; for example, targeting the drivers of supply vehicles or any exposed infantrymen. Connected via radio to the Wankan military headquarters in Ellenburg, they would also double as the eyes in the field. Both the guerrilla forces and sniper teams had prepared an extensive network of resupply bases within the mountains which was sufficiently stocked to last these units, numbering just under 700 men altogether, several months.

At a point along Highway 68, a sniper team overlooking Reiterhof and a long part of the highway listened in closely to their radio. Abwehr agents had reported of the quick departure of several Achesian formations via road but also via choppers; the sniper team was instructed to observe and report on the enemy movement. Soon enough, the vehicles and choppers landed in the sights of their crosshairs and binoculars. The sniper pair reported in, and were ordered to stand by and continue observing.

In the headquarters of the SEKS based in mountains around Brenzlau, _Sonderführer_ Henning took a careful look at his map of the Sellenland, placing the plastic piece representing the 77. Gebirgsjägerregiment west of Siegen. Highway 68 was long and not very well-maintained, which gave him enough time to prepare operations against the oncoming enemy. At Ellenburg, his Wankan military superiors had informed him that elements of the 77th Mountain Regiment had already established defensive positions around Siegen and would be reinforced with the entire regiment, in addition to a battalion of Füsiliers from the 7th Füsilier Division (Mechanized). What they needed was time to bring all the units in place and the knocking-down of AAA troop morale. And so, Henning went to work. His operations staff gathered around him as they discussed possible plans for ambushes as they held constant radio contact to the numerous units in the field who suggested possible points of contacts.

It was decided to let the Achesian formations bypass numerous pairs of units (known as RAPide Einsatzgruppen, or RAPE, pronounced rah-peh in German) who would pull back into safe hiding to avoid detection and contact. The main ambush would be conducted two-thirds of the distance between Siegen and Reiterhof where the mountains came especially close together and the highway itself was pretty narrow. The plan was to have a RAPE on the overhead bridge which spanned over the highway disable surprise and disable leading armored vehicles, blocking the path of the column. Roughly two kilometers down, an Abwehr demolitions team would detonate a vital bridge over the Donau river to block the Achesians rear. The trapped Achesian units would then face fire from two or more RAPEs stationed on elevated positions on either side of the mountains, who would fire their RPGs on the weak top armor of the enemy vehicles and cut down alighting infantry with their machineguns.

The upside was the potential of dealing a significant amount of damage, as a result of the excellent ambush location provided by the terrain (which also had enough hiding places to provide cover from the choppers). The downside was that the RAPEs were spread out all over the highways, and getting the required units would be a race against time. The demolitions team was already on the way from Siegen, pilfered from the _Pionierbattalion_ of the 77th Regiment. A pair of RAPEs were already at the ambush location. Henning would've liked five more RAPEs, which would surely maximize the damage done to the Achesian forces. Three available units were ordered to rapidly move to the ambush site, dubbed the "Kessel", or the cauldron. One was a short ride away with their land rovers, another two would speed down Highway 68 to the Kessel. The 77th had also, at Hennings request, created two RAPE-like units who would be brought via civilian cars toward the ambush site. However, Henning doubted these would arrive on time, primarily due to the fact that there was a heavy jam leading out from Siegen. Well, what will be will be, Henning thought. The two RAPEs at the Kessel were ordered to look for the best ambush locations for the arriving RAPEs and a pair of snipers started trekking toward the site to provide support. All troops involved were ordered to hold their fire and avoid contact; for the ambush, they were instructed to ignore the forward reconnaissance units and attack only when the two kilometers were filled with enemy targets. All in all, if all went according to plan, he would soon have at least forty seven men (he was pretty sure there were nearly no women amongst them) ready to hopefully give the Achesians and nice warm welcome to the Sellenland homeland.

Leaving the finer details of the operation to his officers, Sonderführer Henning moved on to prepare other ways of delaying the approaching Achesian force, in addition to prepare more similar ambushes along Highway 69, along which it was reported that Aemen armored columns were moving. It was crucial that the Aemen formations were delayed long enough to allow the 75th Regiment time to clear the mountains of Aemen resistance and then to consolidate its position on the mountains overlooking the vital Highway 69 junction, which would give them a significant tactical advantage over the approaching enemy. 


	10. Enter Sylvannia

**Official Statement from the Commonwealth of Sylva**

 _The actions undertaken by the Volksrepublic of Murovanka constitute a grave threat to peace in our world. The invasion of one sovereign nation by another for the purpose of securing additional resources who outright unacceptable by modern geopolitical law, and outlined in the World Assembly Border Standardization Act of 2009. As such, the Commonwealth promises that such unwarranted aggression will not go unanswered._ __

 _The desire of the Wankan government to turn so quickly to aggressive military action is troubling; furthermore, in its fool-hearted quest to bring full-scale war to the Casaterran continent, it will find that it is alone. Not only will any other just and free nation not support their endeavor, but the Free World, particularly the nations of the Septentrion League, will take direct action if deemed necessary. As such, with the desire of keeping this tentative peace in Casaterra and all of Septentrion, the Commonwealth hereby demands the following of the Wankan government:_ _  
_

_The removal of all NAZI troops from the Sellenland within 24 (TWENTY FOUR) hours._

 _The immediate cessation of hostilities between all parties._

 _The promise of no interference to diplomatic personnel from a neutral country who will observe the demilitarization of the Sellenland._

 _An official recognition by the Wankan government of the Aemen ownership of the disputed territory._

 __ _Failure to comply with these points will result in serious consequences for the Wankan government. Additionally, the Sylvan delegation hereby calls for an immediate emergency meeting of the Septentrion League to discuss possible economic and military responses to Wankan aggression._ __

 _GOD SAVE THE KING_

 **Calisto Palace** **  
** **Near Chandler, Commonwealth of Sylva** **  
** **1500 hours** **  
**  
Princess Mariana approached her father as any daughter might do, regardless of the fact that he was the King of Sylva. Perhaps the most powerful office in Septentrion, with one of the region's largest economies and most powerful militaries at his disposal. He could overrule the power to overrule Parliament, even the First Minister. His rule was so respected it could, and in history had, bended the wills of foreign nations – yet Silus VI, King of Sylva, sat idle.

No, Silus VI was not a ruler. He was a monarch, yes, but not a ruler.

His royal prerogatives were extensive yet they had solemnly been used in Silus' forty-year rule of the Commonwealth and her commonwealth, something that Mariana did not understand. How could he sit idly by as conflict engulfed the region? How could he let his people go to war without so much as lifting a finger?

It was probably because of Salvador, she thought. The Crown Prince was essentially running the country anyway – Father sat in the palace, obsessing over frivolous things like poetry, literature, history and art while the world collapsed around him. For all of Salvador's bellicosity and belligerence, at least he was a man of action. Nevertheless there were things she would change about Salvador, just not as many things she would change about Silus.

Silus was sitting in a rocking chair overlooking the palace gardens, just as he did every afternoon. Seeing him, Mariana had to smile; he was so…innocent. So oblivious to all the evils in the world, Silus simply fretted over his literature, without a care or purpose. Today, he was writing a poem - one of thousands he had written, nonetheless, that crowded the extensive Royal Archive and the Great Library.

"Father," she said gently, sitting down in a chair adjacent to the King. He looked up from his poem and smiled at his daughter as a priest would smile if the heavens had suddenly opened.

"Mariana, my love," he replied, with all the grace of a father and all the dominion of a king. "How nice of you to visit me. I was just finishing a new poem,"

"That's fantastic, father –"

He interrupted, seemingly without noticing that his daughter had even spoken. "Read it, please," he insisted. 

_How could you believe_  
 _That the life within the seed_  
 _That grew arms that reached_  
 _And a heart that beat_  
 _And lips that smiled_  
 _And eyes that cried_  
 _Could ever die?_

It was another poem about Mother, she decided. She had died giving birth to Mariana – she had no real idea what she was like, only what she looked like.

Photographs could say a thousand words but love could speak a million, she had always said. Or at least, that's what Salvador and Silus had told her she always said. Mariana had never known her mother aside from the few minutes post birth of which she had actually been with her. And of course, at 26 she could not remember the first few minutes of her life.

"Father…"

She signed, and straightened her dress as she took a seat next to Silus. "I know your love lies in the arts. But the country needs you. As we speak the region is finishing it's plunge into war. The AAA is fighting NAZI, SL is fighting the AN, yet we sit idly by. Sylva, now more than ever, needs her King."

"And what," Silus asked, setting down his poem and pen reluctantly, "What would you have me do? I may have power over this country but I do not have control over it's people. It is not so much the country as the people that are preparing for this coming storm. We are defending Sidonia just as much for the oil as we are the are the people – they are Sylvans, after all."

"But, the war…"

"It is inevitable. If it doesn't happen now it will happen later – history attests to that. Better to wait out the storm instead of praying for it not to come."

"If it is a storm," Mariana replied, "then the house must be prepared. You do not simply 'wait out' a storm; you fortify your house, defend it."

Silus looked at his daughter with a new eye. "But in some ways it is better to preserve what we can, and accept that what is going to be destroyed is, well, doomed."

"No, father. That's when you gather your neighbors, and your family, and double down. You cannot simply submit."

Silus sighed, and smiled. He moved a strand of blonde hair that had fallen over her face, folding it back. "I wish I retained your youthful optimism, and your stubbornness. I do hope it lasts you through your life."

Silus stood, walking to a small fountain in the central courtyard. Mariana did not follow him. As he approached the marble waterwork, deep in thought, he suddenly turned and faced his daughter once again.

"Perhaps you are right," he said. "Perhaps…perhaps it is best we ask for our neighbors' help. Of whom do you think we can call upon?"

Mariana smiled. "Thank you, father. And I would like to ask the Kingdom of Aemen for support."

"Aemen..." He said. "I was hoping you wouldn't say Aemen. Our families have been on bad terms for centuries. How do you expect to overturn eight hundred years of schism?"

"With my wit and charm," she said sarcastically. "I am planning to make a surprise, but official, visit to Aemen tomorrow. I will request to meet with both Reginald and Crown Prince Alexander, as well as wish Roseanna the best in her engagement to the Achesian prince."

"I will send a telegram ahead of you, alerting them of your visit. Godspeed, my love."

 **From the desk of King Silus IX**

 **To His Excellency The Most Honorable Lord King Reginald II;**

 **My daughter the princess Mariana will be arriving in Erus tomorrow at 1300 hours local time on official state business, as well as for her own personal reasons. She would like to discuss with you the Aemen support in the war against the Allied Nations as well as possible SL support in bringing down the Sellenland insurrection.**

 **Please accept this gracious extension for a future friendship between our two nations. The War of Sylvan Succession is over; it has been for eight hundred years. It is time that our two houses put their differences aside and work together for a better future – not just for our countries but for the world.**

 **Warm regards,**  
 **Silus Caliphus IX, King of Sylva and all her Domains**

 **Official Statement from the Commonwealth of Sylva**

The actions undertaken by the Volksrepublic of Murovanka constitute a grave threat to peace in our world. The invasion of one sovereign nation by another for the purpose of securing additional resources who outright unacceptable by modern geopolitical law, and outlined in the World Assembly Border Standardization Act of 2009. As such, the Commonwealth promises that such unwarranted aggression will not go unanswered.

The desire of the Wankan government to turn so quickly to aggressive military action is troubling; furthermore, in its fool-hearted quest to bring full-scale war to the Casaterran continent, it will find that it is alone. Not only will any other just and free nation not support their endeavor, but the Free World, particularly the nations of the Septentrion League, will take direct action if deemed necessary. As such, with the desire of keeping this tentative peace in Casaterra and all of Septentrion, the Commonwealth hereby demands the following of the Wankan government: 

The removal of all NAZI troops from the Sellenland within 24 (TWENTY FOUR) hours.

The immediate cessation of hostilities between all parties.

The promise of no interference to diplomatic personnel from a neutral country who will observe the demilitarization of the Sellenland.

An official recognition by the Wankan government of the Aemen ownership of the disputed territory.

Failure to comply with these points will result in serious consequences for the Wankan government. Additionally, the Sylvan delegation hereby calls for an immediate emergency meeting of the Septentrion League to discuss possible economic and military responses to Wankan aggression.  
 _  
_ _GOD SAVE THE KING_

 **Sarrington Manor**  
 **Erus**  
 **Several hours before the arrival of Princess Mariana**

"Utterly hilarious, Adler!" cried Prince Tavish as he gulped down a glass of wine. The prince had taken the opportunity of a day free of royal duties to gather his most trusted drinking companions and begin a no-holds-barred day of pure intoxication. Taking place mainly in the Manor's garden so that the group could enjoy the weather, the sun was just starting to approach its highest point in the sky, marking the beginning of what was to be a surging headache for the prince and his friends in twenty four hours time.

"You mean to tell me that out of all of your mistresses, _she's_ the one your mother caught you with!? I'm in stitches!" yelled one of Tavish's friends to another. Tavish, being educated at Brein College of the University of Marresburg, had kept a network of rich and powerful friends since his departure, often inviting them to the Manor on days where his schedule was empty to pool their warped senses of humour and insatiable thirsts for historic alcoholic vintages. The difference between Tavish and his friends? He went to Brein a prince, he left a prince, he remains a prince. His friends entered as students and ended up as bankers, doctors, diplomats and architects, whilst Tavish became the constant among them, unchanging and at his father's beck and call.

"Oh shut up Renshaw! I still remember that scandal you got into with the Wankan girl! Damn near half the Sellenland wanted your blood, though they'd have preferred your money!" there were howls of laughter broken up by moments of silence as the group drunk heavily from their glasses. "And what of you, Your Highness?" asked one of the prince's friends mockingly. "What about your exploits. All we see of you now, apart from these highly entertaining gatherings, is your royal face bobbing about on the television with that god awful smile! I've seen more genuine facial gestures at a war criminal's trial and that was back in university!"

Tavish laughed. The occasional pokes and playful, sometimes dark, jabs his friends took at him and each other were something he had grown accustomed to, though he dare not let them speak to any other members of his family that way; news always travelled fast back to his father's ears. "Well, as luck would have it old chap, I've decided to get involved with the military a bit. All those uniforms and the medals that come with them that I ponce about in and I've only ever done my five years of service, hardly anything to warrant such rewards if you ask me!"

"Ah, so you're going to cheerlead for them? Your father would be most impressed!"

"Oh shush you bastard! I've actually created several units that-" Tavish stopped himself. Even under the heavy influence of alcohol he knew that if he said a word more on his military involvement, he risked one of the Manor's servants overhearing. One thing he didn't want was for the Aemen high command, worst of all his father, to find out he was blabbering to friends about secret information on what the Aemen military were doing to captured soldiers.

"That... that... oh, bloody hell, it's gone! I must need some more of my special memory juice to stimulate my dormant cerebrum. Gordon! Bring along a bottle of 1974! We'll need the best year to revitalise this conversation!" 

**Olbridge Castle**  
 **Erus**

Prince Alexander led Julian through the castle's splendid halls, passing various suits of armor that stood as relics of the ages and large marvelous oil paintings depicting the kings and princes of old times. Alexander gestured to some of the paintings with romantic depictions of Aemen's more famous kings. "Rulers of the past, Your Highness, forever immortalized in the fabric of a canvass. My father in his younger years is among them as is my grandfather and my great grandfather. They are all soldiers that fought and bled in their own ways for this country. It's a trait I hear that our families have in common and will make us strong allies, wouldn't you say?"

Julian admired the canvas of King Reginald in his youth- time claims us all- he pondered. "It is said a prince must not have any other object nor any other thought… but war, its institutions, and its discipline; because that is the only art befitting one who command… something my father told me once, a passage from an old book." He stepped away from the painting and continued to follow Prince Alexander down the hall. "That is why you and me are speaking today, because our fathers were warriors. They fought for their right to rule, if they did not we would be in some nation like Sylva where they have a constitution… that binds their king to being nothing but a banner that is torn, fluttering in the wind as its last fibers disintegrate into the air. That is not us your highness, today we stand together to make our enemies fade away."

Alexander smiled at Julian. The limited royalty of Septentrion had left him feeling alone before the marriage was announced, but now he was feeling a kindred spirit in the Crown Prince. "And fade they shall, but not before they tremble and quake in such fear that our families' names will be seared into their minds as the opponents they should never have made." The two princes came to the same staircase that Reginald had previously climbed to reach his study; they were close. As the pair of them walked up the stairs themselves, they came across a small diamond-shaped window with the sun beaming through it which provided a view of the Estate Gardens. Alexander stopped halfway and took in the marvelous view before spotting a young blonde woman in an emerald green dress walking the cobbled grounds with another female companion. He instantly recognized the blonde woman as his younger sister, Princess Roseanna. Alexander beckoned Julian to the window. "Your Highness, please do take a moment to absorb the wonder of Olbridge's gardens. It's been in my family for centuries and it only becomes more beautiful with age, not even war with the Sylvans tarnished its image. I believe you'll be walking it before you depart from Erus yourself, I do hope you enjoy it as much as I do."

He looked into the garden below, it took him a moment however to come to terms with what Alexander was saying but then he fixed his eyes upon the young princess. He smiled, "Normally with the war going on and my troops being in the field I would not idle long. However; given the circumstances I may have to take you up on that offer."

The two men continued upwards, passing butlers and maids attending to their daily rounds, before reaching Olbridge's top floor, where velvet and silk curtains were held in place with golden and red tie backs and the symbol of the Royal House of Olbridge, an owl with its wings spread abreast perched atop a marvellous crown, lay emblazoned along an immaculately clean red carpet. Alexander led Julian down one of the corridors to a polished wooden door with a spherical smooth handle. "It's been a pleasure to speak with you, Your Highness. Personally, I believe your marriage to my sister to be the right choice and that our kingdoms will be stronger for it. Beyond this door, my father awaits in his study. He's no doubt eager to finally meet you himself." Alexander knocked on the door before opening it, spotting his father at a desk in the far end of the room. "Father, I present to you His Royal Highness Crown Prince Julian of Achesia." Alexander stepped aside, allowing Julian the chance to pass through into the room himself.

Julian after acknowledging the Prince's kind hospitality, strutted forward into the the King's study. Before walking to far into the room he first bowed lowly to the King and introduced himself.

"Your majesty, I am Julian of the House of Requient, the Crown Prince of Achesia. I thank you for your invitation to your beautiful Kingdom." He stood upright once more and came closer to the king. "My father sends his best wishes to you, he wishes he could come, but he thought the experience in both warfare and statecraft would be too much for me to miss. And he jests that in his old age it is hard to jump out of helicopters." Julian pulled something out from one of the pockets on his armor, a small golden thing, very ornate. He held it before him, it was a small orb of the world, and atop it a Bird of Prey and an Owl flying high together. "He sends this gift as a token of goodwill. Gold from the recently excavated Achesian ruins of G'katt-Snin. Very rare, from the 2,000 B.C."

Alexander closed the door, leaving Reginald and Julian alone. The King turned from his chair, fixing Julian with his eyes before standing up and letting a smile curve into his lips. "I'm sure I will meet your father in time, Crown Prince. The days of our friendship are still young." Reginald raised his eyebrows at the sight of the gift, impressed, before taking the orb from Julian and placing it on his desk. "A wonderful gesture, Your Highness. I am sure we will soar the skies of this world together as your gift implies. You must tell me more of your kingdom's history when we are not currently occupied with open rebellion. Now, please, sit. We have things to discuss." Reginald led Julian to a pair of black leather sofas that faced each other with a table between the two and beckoned the young prince to sit on one as he claimed the other. "So, do tell me, what are your predictions for the conflict in the Sellenland? How long do you believe your troops will take to support mine in its recapture?"

"Steps are being taken to ensure our success your majesty." He folded his hands in front of him as he leaned towards the King. It was hard to sit in all the armor but Prince Julian made it look good. "An entire Legion of our best troops, the Order of Knights Avant Garde is expected to land here in Aemen within a week. Once they arrive it will only be a matter of time before our conflict is won. In addition to that an entire fleet of my father's ships sails to us from our colony of Eld-Audian, it will not be long before they can bring their guns to bear on our enemies. In addition to all of this a Brigade of Rangers came in today to begin mountain warfare operations to push the Wanka lines back towards their dark bastion." He smiled "I expect victory is around the corner for us. But how far do you wish to take us your majesty, all the way to Kronstadt?"

Reginald nodded, connecting his fingers and forming a bridge with his hands on the level of his chin as he listened, refusing to give away any sense of being impressed by the young prince. "The Wankans have stained the Sellenland with their mere existence for far too long. Under my rule I've allowed them certain freedoms, but after this colourful show of theirs, I intend to rectify those freedoms with the necessary authority. Your generous military contributions to our efforts will not go unnoticed, Crown Prince."

The King took in a deep breath, contemplating his next move like a tactician engrossed in a game of chess. "I do not intend to march on Kronstadt, Your Highness. Aemen already finds itself in a most advantageous position here on Casaterra, to become too ambitious may result in that delicate luxury slipping from my grasp. I will, however, have temporary need of your soldiers once the Sellenland is returned to the crown's hands, should you and your father approve of course. I wish for your forces to remain in the region alongside my own troops for a period of three months whilst the Ministry of Enforcement deploys the Sellenland Social Order Act, a law of my own design which will allow the entire region to be monitored without hindrance by a new Sellenland Council Authority, so that we can ensure for generations that this sort of disobedient and repugnant behavior never happens again."

"We are at your disposal my king, they will all remain here at your leisure." He crossed his legs and leaned in some more. "What are your ambitions if I may ask, these rogue nations will only serve to test divine right as long as they stand. Wanka, Allied Nations, Sylva, all of them who do not bend the knee are a threat to us, and all that we built."

 **Erus, Kingdom of Aemen  
** **A few hours after Julien's visit**

The press and the paparazzi had Princess Mariana's private jet surrounded from the moment it had touched down at Erus International, swarming around a small pathway set out from the plane's descending staircase. A small carpet had been laid out by two members of the Royal Dragoons, who now stood at perfect attention flanking where the princess would exit her aircraft.

The cameras flashed as Mariana stepped down the stair ramp leading down to the carpet that had been laid out over the tarmac. The princess wore a tight grey business skirt and heels and a plain white blouse, though her blonde hair offset the outfit's formality. She looked uncomfortable in the spotlight – she had always been the favorite child to the tabloid magazines which took a peculiarly strange obsession with the (single) 28 year-old's life, and even more so the men in it – and though she had never truly enjoyed the spotlight, she had had more than her fair share of it.

She hurried down the carpet, tightening her grip on the briefcase strapped on one shoulder. Mariana tried her best to shoot a smile as the flash of camera bulbs nearly blinded her; that, and the ever-so vigilant newscasters that shot questions forth at the Princess. They were as trivial as "What are your vacation plans?" to political powder kegs such as "Is Roseanna's betrothal an endorsement of arranged marriage?"

She hurried past the cameras and questions and microphones and into a State vehicle provided by the Kingdom. In the backseat, as the vehicle pulled away, she reflected on her mission in Erus. Sylva was at war; even worse, it was losing. The Allied Nations had achieved a major breakthrough (albeit after violating nearly every rule of war) and was on the verge of finishing the job, decisively defeating the Septentrion League.

She had to stop them. She had to save Sylva.

The only way to do that was to get additional troops to deploy to Sidonia. The Sylvans were stretched thin as it was – the Aleckandoreans and the Skyans were both sending reinforcements but both of the battlegroups were too far away to assist in the Battle of Sidonia. But Aemen…Aemen had three full-strength mechanized divisions on it's southeastern border that could link up with the 1. Maneuver in a matter of hours. If she could convince the Kingdom to support the SL, she could save Sidonia, and Sylva.

Easier said than done, she thought.

It hadn't been long since Crown Prince Julian of Achesia had departed after his meeting with Princess Roseanna that Alexander had to hurry himself back to his home of Irinvat Palace within Erus' Antiquity Quarter. The prince was due to meet Princess Mariana of Sylva and the preparations had been laid out long before Alexander had returned from Olbridge. Preferring to refrain from changing out of his military dress uniform, Alexander poured himself a small glass of scotch to clear his head before he prepared to exercise the trust his father had placed in him. He knew what this meeting was about, he knew that throughout most of history Mariana's ancestors and his own had been coldly indifferent at the best of times and bitter enemies at the worst, but this was different; Sylva needed Aemen's military support if it was to continue to wage war against the Allied Nations. Alexander knew this and had been encouraged by his father to exploit the situation for the benefit of the crown.

As Alexander waited in his lounge, the Palace's servants prepared the building for Her Royal Highness's arrival whilst scores of Crown Guardsmen lined the structure's exterior, more out of suspicion of the Sylvan princess than for her welcome.

She was late. Only by a matter of minutes but late nevertheless. Alexander's father had always taught him that early was on time; anything else was late.

Alexander was sitting on a soft plush sofa staring out the window when Mariana was escorted inside. He stood to greet his guest, straightening his uniform, and saw the Sylvan princess in the flesh for the first time. _The pictures don't give her enough credit,_ he thought to himself.

"Heir Apparent Crown Prince Alexander," she said, extending a slender hand. "A pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine," he said, with a small smile. Immediately his entire view of the conversation's tone had changed. He walked over to the table and poured himself and his guest a glass of scotch, emptying the small bottle he had started earlier.

"How do you like Erus?" he asked.

"Quiet," she said. "Much quieter than Chandler."

"Yes, well, an oil shortage will do that," Alexander explained. "In an effort to save the liquid we've cut down on the amount at the private sector has access too. Not a bad change if you ask me. I rather enjoy the…peacefulness that having no automobiles create. Which brings me to my first point," he said, taking a seat across a small table from Mariana.

"The Kingdom is in need of oil imports. The destruction of the Spinneli Refinery, and this damn thing in the Sellenland has more than halved the amount of oil we have access to. Though, from what I understand, Sidonia has an excess of the substance."

"Yes, though unexploited. The Sidonians are very weary of the petroleum industry even if it does provide nearly three quarters of the country's economy. However the Gas Act changed all that – they opened the fields up to private development instead of leaving them under government oversight. Surveyors estimate that Sidonia produces only forty percent of its maximum capacity, though it will take time to build up the industry…especially considering that it is being ravaged by the war.

"However that does not mean that Sylva is oblivious or uncaring of Aemen's situation. We have been from an official point of view neutral in the Sellenland, though this is open to change, especially when a formal state of war exists between the Kingdom and the _Volksrepublik_. Furthermore we are willing to lend some of our oil reserves to Aemen until the Sidonian oil situation can be fixed. Fixed, in the sense that the Allies are out of Casaterra altogether. With this in mind I have drafted a rough proposal of sorts for you to review."

Mariana handed Alexander a legal pad. On the front page were two bulleted lists written in English shorthand writing.

"Forgive my penmanship, I did this on the plane ride here."

 _Aemen will –_ _  
_ _*Deploy troops to Sidonia and fight alongside SL forces until the war's cessation._ _  
_ _*Assist in the reconstruction of Sidonia's economy and infrastructure after the war's end._ __

 _Sylva will –_ _  
_ _*Ship heavy industry, aircraft, and diesel fuel to Aemen from existing Sylvan reserves (barrels per day to be decided)_ _  
_ _*Allow significant Aemen participation in the joint exploitation of Sidonia's unextracted oil after the war._ _  
_ _*Provide logistical, intelligence, and advisory support to assist in the reannexation of the Sellenland back into Aemen._ _  
_  
Alexander took the pad in his hand and looked through Mariana's proposal. He stroked his chin, glancing occasionally back to the princess before keeping his eyes focused on the paper in front of him. The prince was trying to think like his father, whom would eventually have to authorise the deal between the two countries should one arise from these talks. In all honesty though…he found it hard to take his eyes off his beautiful Sylvan counterpart.

"It's very vague, Your Highness. I accept that you drafted these terms in a hurry, but my father will want something much more concrete than this, especially if we are dedicating soldiers to the war effort against the Allies."

Alexander handed the pad back to Mariana before taking a sip from his scotch. "What he wants would be for all Aemen involvement in Sidonia to take precedence over others as soon as this war was over, whether it be military, economic or otherwise. However, I'll try to be as accommodating as possible because I'd like this negotiation to not end on a sour note." The prince smiled, adjusting one of his gleaming medals.

"How about this: We will deploy troops to Sidonia, we will assist Sylvan and Aleckandorean forces against the Allied Nations and we will devote resources to aid in the reconstruction, after the war has ceased, for a period of twelve months, I have no problem with that and I'm sure I can convince my father to agree. In return, the Aemen-based business entities Salian and Co. and Folcwalding-Merovingia Shipping will have the initial undivided crack at Sidonia's untapped reserves - it will be Aemen drills that strike the oil first and it is they who will set the price."

The Heir Apparent continued to smile at Mariana, usually his father's stern tone would be at the back of his mind, controlling his every move. But somehow, Alexander felt relaxed and confident. "We can work out the numbers of your reserves you'd be willing to ship to us at a later date and you were right to note down only logistical, intelligence and advisory support for the Sellenland conflict; my father wouldn't enjoy seeing Sylvan forces inside his own borders."

 _Aemen will –_ __

 _*Deploy troops to Sidonia and fight alongside SL forces until the war's cessation._ __

 _*Assist in the reconstruction of Sidonia's economy and infrastructure after the war's end_ _ **for a period of twelve months.**_ __

 _ **Sylva will –**_ __

 _ ***Ship heavy industry, aircraft, and diesel fuel to Aemen from existing Sylvan reserves (barrels per day to be decided)**_ __

 _ ***Allow Aemen corporations Salian and Co. and Folcwalding-Merovingia Shipping to exploit unextracted Sidonian reserves before any other entity after the war.**_ __

 _ ***Provide logistical, intelligence, and advisory support to assist in the reannexation of the Sellenland back into Aemen.**_ _  
_  
"That is quite a high price, Prince Alexander," Mariana said. "Personally I would take it as is, but unfortunately – excuse me, _because of the fact that_ Sylva is a democracy, this plan will have to be approved by the Foreign Relations Committee of Parliament. However, the First Minister has vested in me the authority to negotiate a settlement. As such, I have a few clauses I could add."

She stopped for a moment, choosing her next words very carefully. "Sylva is committed to the bilateral containment of NAZI," she said. "In the Strachan Sea, we have effectively cornered the Erquinian fleet. Any movement they make out of port and into the Strachan can be, and is, monitored through our coastal sonar nets. However we do not have any way of preventing Murovanka of sending vessels into the Achesian Sea/Gulf of Wanka. The Wankan fleet does not present a strategic threat, however their allies abroad, particularly in the Atramentar, present a grave problem. While Sylva and the League can no doubt defeat Murovanka and Erquin in open conflict, they cannot defeat them both with Atramentari forces backing them. As such, the Sylvans feel it in everyone's best interest – including Aemen's – that a carrier battle group be deployed to the Gulf of Mozria, the Achesian Sea, or whatever you call it – to prevent Atramentari ships from resupplying Murovanka. However we have no suitable base of operations in the Gulf to do this – we have Grisham Island, but it does not have the natural harbors or military infrastructure needed to support a full carrier group.

"However Aemen does. If the Kingdom was to allow a Sylvan battlegroup to base itself in, say, Plymouth or Cold Harbor, and lease the base from the Aemen government, then we could find these terms acceptable. Now, that would mean Sylvan forces inside of Aemen. I realize your father's trepidation about this, and as such am also willing to include inside the clause a public pact of non-aggression to be signed between Sylva and the Kingdom."

"An alliance?" Alexander asked. "My father would never approve."

"No, simply an agreement to demilitarize our borders. This will allow Sylva to move its far-stretched forces north and west to the Wankan and Erquinian borders, and alleviate more forces for you to deploy into the Sellenland. Although, Sylva is not against the idea of a mutual defense treaty, if your father or you would ever allow such a thing."

Mariana wrote these things on the pad and handed it back to Alexander.

 _Aemen will –_ __

 _*Deploy troops to Sidonia and fight alongside SL forces until the war's cessation._ __

 _*Assist in the reconstruction of Sidonia's economy and infrastructure after the war's end for a period of twelve months._ _  
_ _*Lease (location to be decided) naval base to Sylva to house the Commonwealth Crimson Sea Fleet._ _  
_ _*Agree to demilitarize the Sylvan border._ __

 _Sylva will –_ __

 _*Ship heavy industry, aircraft, and diesel fuel to Aemen from existing Sylvan reserves (barrels per day to be decided)_ __

 _*Allow Aemen corporations Salian and Co. and Folcwalding-Merovingia Shipping to exploit unextracted Sidonian reserves before any other entity after the war._ _  
_ _*Provide logistical, intelligence, and advisory support to assist in the reannexation of the Sellenland back into Aemen._ _  
_ _*Agree to demilitarize the Aemen border._

Alexander breathed in after looking at Mariana's revised terms, scrutinising the demilitarisation most of all and wary of the lease that had been added, though he knew that she was right; were Atramentari forces, which Aemen had no experience in fighting, able to resupply Murovanka with their battle groups, who would then in turn transfer those resources to the SOABs in the Sellenland, then things would become much more difficult and the probability of defeat increases drastically. Alexander looked back at Mariana, mulling over his decision. "You're certainly correct on the NAZI front. Though I have little knowledge of the Atramentar, they have yet to properly pose a threat to my father, I suspect they will in time. I have heard... whispers of their brutality and would prefer they didn't set foot on the continent."  
He took another sip from his scotch, encouraging his mind to come to a decision. "The furthest easterly island of Sarston is known as Kemwick. It sits between the Achesian territory to the northeast and the largest Sarston island of Hiltrul to the southwest. Kemwick's military port is a prime location for identifying ships seeking to pass into the Achesian Sea. As you've said, my father isn't keen on seeing Sylvan forces on Aemen ground, so I believe it will be necessary for the Crimson Sea Fleet you intend to house on Kemwick to seek the permission and authorisation of the Elector-Margrave Ridley Folcwalding, both once it arrives in Aemen waters for safe passage and for any major movements that it seeks to make outside of the island's maritime boundaries once its lease has begun."

Alexander finished his scotch, placing the glass on a central table in the room before walking back towards Mariana. "Aside from that, I can agree to demilitarisation, for the time being. Those divisions along our border can be used for other purposes." 

_Aemen will –_ _  
_ _*Deploy troops to Sidonia and fight alongside SL forces until the war's cessation._ _  
_ _*Assist in the reconstruction of Sidonia's economy and infrastructure after the war's end for a period of twelve months._ _  
_ _*Lease_ _ **Kemwick Military Port**_ _to Sylva to house the Commonwealth Crimson Sea Fleet._ _ **All major fleet movement the CSCSF attempts must be authorised by the Margrave's Citadel before it commences.**_ _  
_ _ ***Agree to demilitarize the Sylvan border.**_ __

 _ **Sylva will –**_ _  
_ _ ***Ship heavy industry, aircraft, and diesel fuel to Aemen from existing Sylvan reserves (barrels per day to be decided)**_ __

 _ ***Allow Aemen corporations Salian and Co. and Folcwalding-Merovingia Shipping to exploit unextracted Sidonian reserves before any other entity after the war.**_ __

 _ ***Provide logistical, intelligence, and advisory support to assist in the reannexation of the Sellenland back into Aemen.**_ _  
_ _ ***Agree to demilitarize the Aemen border**_

"This can be arranged," Mariana said. The pad was handed off to an aid, who was to type it up. Mariana recognized immediately that the man wasn't Aemen by birth – perhaps an Achesian? It didn't matter. If he was on the Crown Guard, he was trustworthy.

"Prince Alexander, thank you for you hospitality," Mariana said, with a smile, extending her hand once more.

"Ah, nonsense!" Alexander replied. "You have spent barely any time in our beautiful city. I'll tell you what – when do you leave?"

"Well, my flight out is tomorrow afternoon."

"Splendid! You must let me show you the city."

He sealed the deal with a touch on Mariana's diplmatic side. "It will look good for the cameras, either way. An Aemen Prince and a Sylvan Princess."

"Well, from my experience they will get the wrong idea," Mariana said, remembering her many run-ins with the press. "They yellow press will go viral with it. They'll see us together, and the next thing you know, tomorrows' headlines will say 'Princess Mariana dating Prince Alexander.'"

Alexander parched his lip, looking for words. His face began to blush. Regardless of the military uniform, the combat training, and the hardline diplomacy – there was nothing like a beautiful woman to make a man speechless. It was only then that Mariana realized what was happening.

"Wait – are you – asking me out?"

"Uh...yes?" He said, with a hopeful smile.

She laughed once, then twice. "Uh...sure!" she said, before laughing to herself again. "I'll admit – I didn't see that one coming."


	11. Backlash

**Official Statement of the Wankan Foreign Ministry**  
 _  
_ _The government of the Volksrepublik Wanka would like to remind the simple-minded leadership of the Commonwealth of Sylva the fact that an armed conflict between the Volksrepublik and_ _ **Aemen does not exist**_ _. This brash, baseless and proofless accusation of warmongering from the Commonwealth is not only, with regards to Sidonia, contradictory, but also clearly a direct result of the Volksrepublik not cooperating on the aggressive economic warfare that the CS is waging on the Allied Nations as part of its principle strategy to attain world domination._ __

 _The Wankan government calls for an immediate meeting of the Nuremberg Alliance for Future-Oriented Inter-regional Cooperation (NAZI) to prepare a strategy to counter Sylvan aggression and warns fellow nations to remain on guard against the increasingly imperialist nature of the Commonwealth._ __

 _The Volksrepublik reiterates that it will remain strictly neutral in the Sellenland insurgency and will only provide humanitarian assistance to the Sellenland civilian population, regardless of race or gender. Furthermore, the Volksrepublik will recognize the results of the region-wide Sellenland referendum, which has so far been carried out in a free and fair manner._ __

 _In addition, the Volksrepublik offers to hold peace talks in Kronstadt and mediate negotiations between the opposing parties to curb the escalating violence in the Sellenland and to protect the thousands of innocent lives at risk._

 _ **Kronstadt**_  
 _ **Rote Quadrat**_

 _"NIEDER MIT SYLVA! NIEDER MIT DEM SEPTENTRIONBUND!"_

The repeated accusations by the Sylvan government branding the Wankan state as a "threat to peace", and the Wankan medias reporting on the Sellenland conflict brought a whole lot of people together on the Red Square. The main anger was channelled at the Sylva; it seemed that that was one thing that everyone agreed upon. Banners with "Death to Sylva!" and "Sylvans- OUT of Wanka!" were extremely common. Some even chanted for war with the Septentrion League; others attempted to attack ethnic Sylvans, whose neighbourhoods were protected by several battalions of riot police. Nevertheless, Kronstadt became rather unsafe for Sylvans, with thugs actively seeking out the lighter-skinned Sylvans and beating them up in broad daylight. Sylvan shops were looted. But those activities were quickly stamped out by the police who rounded up the criminals, which often included Sylvan youths who'd seeked revenge.

However, more interesting to note was that many were frustrated at Meinhof for not helping the Sellenwankers. The Wankan media, which was to some degree independent, had painted an evil picture of the "Aemen oppressors", showing footage of Aemen war crimes back in '72 and their illegal annexation of the Sellenland.

"Tretet dem Freiheitsbund bei! Hilft unseren Brüdern im Sellenland!"

 _Join the League of Freedom! Help our brothers in the Sellenland!_ _  
_  
The blood-red words hung over a military Biwak situated on the pavement. There, men and women in black busily recruited numerous volunteers for the fight in the Sellenland. It was one of several independent battalions organized by primarily by Sellenwankers, Abwehr agents and former soldiers and officers who were the casualties of the downsizing of the Wankan Armed Forces several years ago. Police officers wearily watched over the recruiters, who made no attempt to hide their presence and purpose. However, they were clearly instructed not to "interfere" with such "lawful activities". Camps located in southern Wanka were already busily training their new recruits. Participants noted a surprisingly large number of modern Wankan Army equipment…

At the same time, the demonstrations grew ever larger. By the evening, 500,000 men, women and children had gathered and were demanding that Meinhof liberate the Sellenland and take a strong and assertive stance against Sylvan aggression… and Sylvans in general. In her office overlooking the main square, Ulrike Meinhof fought with conflicting feelings. On the one hand, it was great to know that the population was on her side if she ever decided to officially go to war with Aemen. On the other hand, this increasingly anti-Sylvan atmosphere would almost certainly provoke an angry response by the Sylvan population both in Wanka and Sylva, something which might lead to unnecessary and complicated long-term problems. Maybe it was time to reign in the press? She had good contacts; they would be able to sooth the xenophobic feelings toward the Sylvans. Meinhof picked up her phone, dialing a number.

 **Southeast Wanka** **  
** **Near Wanko-Sylvan Border** **  
** **13\. Füsilierdivision, 14. Füsilierdivision, 27. Gebirgsjägerdivision**

 _"FEUER!"_

As one, the self-propelled artillery battalions opened fire, raining shells on the opposite side of the river. Explosions dotted the mountains as Wankan vehicles streamed down the hills toward the Seine river. Panzer-88 main battle tanks stuck their turrets out from behind the hills and sent rounds slamming into the steel targets some three thousand meters away. High above, Gallen-23 multiroles and -27 ground attack aircraft criss-crossed the sky, sending missiles and rockets toward the earth, sending smoke and dirt billowing high up into the air.

Panzerschütze d. R. Gerhard Hintner trained his 35mm cannon on the enemy defenses protecting the river. The whistle of missiles and artillery shells, accompanied by the regular explosions and cannon fire made him wonder whether he would suffer from any long-term hearing loss. The noise was truly deafening; he wondered what the Sylvans across the border were thinking. Upon reaching the Seine, the Schützenpanzer-12 came to a screeching halt; seconds later, the engineers in the back jumped out to assist in the bridgelaying. Hintner sent another burst of cannon fire toward one of the steel targets; it collapsed back down, only to reappear seconds later.

He truly enjoyed this live-fire exercise and counted himself lucky in that the regiment was not sent to the high mountains in the south. While the mountain ranges on the Wanko-Sylvan border did have several peaks reaching 3,000 meters, the ground was on average only several hundred meters above sea level. It was so low that tanks were able to maneuver on its hilly-marshy terrain, albeit with some maneuver constrictions. Still, that was better than the Sellenland, where tanks and many armored vehicles were restricted to the main roads, thus rendering them pretty much useless. And the weather was simply so much better. Almost no fog, no snow, temperatures going no lower than 10 degrees at night. Apparently, rumor had it that many vehicles operating in the Sellenland were suffering from recurring mechanical failures to their old engines.

However, while the 30-year old reserve soldier was enjoying himself training to defend his country, he didn't realize something else. While the defense minister had declared the commencement of "defensive live-fire maneuver exercises", the maneuvers were anything but defensive. In fact, in case of an invasion into Sylva, the Wankan ground forces would have to cross several rivers very similar to the Seine river in Wanka- which was what the three divisions were rehearsing right now. If the mobilization and stationing of several divisions near the Wanko-Sylvan border hadn't irritated the Sylvans yet, this orchestra of the music of war surely would. And this was only the start of a series of exercises which would keep the Sylvan neighbours on edge, designed to be a response to the Sylvans increasing tendency to meddle in Wankan affairs and in particular, their attempt at trying to seek a closer relationship with the AAA.

Meanwhile, following several minutes of delays, the "Armored Quick Bridges" finally finished their work, having laid six steel bridges across the Seine river. The engineers climbed back into Hintners Schützenpanzer as the latter watched the Gebirgsjäger battalions rush across the bridges, leading the assault onto the opposite side of the river. Artillery fire was directed further up the mountains as the three regiments of the 27th Mountain Division assaulted the enemy defenses. They were followed by Hintner and his 13th Division, along with the 14th Division. The three-hour live-fire exercise would end soon, and the 30-year old teacher looked forward to relaxing in the cool mountains of the Wankan south-east.


	12. Rule Achesia

**Above Highway 68, Sellenland-**

_"When Achesions first, at heaven's command,_  
 _Arose from out the azure main,_  
 _Arose, arose, arose from out the azure main,_  
 _This was the charter, the charter of the land,_  
 _And guardian Angels sung this strain:_

 _Rule Achesia!_  
 _Achesia rule the waves._  
 _Achesians never, never, never shall be slaves."_

The fourth go around of this ballad almost made young Dejan Berislav retch over the side of the helicopter onto to turret gunner of a Adhesion Mora MRAP bellow. Doubtful the soldier would appreciate the fruit of his paunch as he rode along unexpectedly, but the unsettling feeling in his stomach was a unshakable reality as he watched the land cruise bellow him. It wasn't just the helicopter ride (although he did choose to be infantry for a reason), it was more the thought of his first combat. The expectations, the fears, the stress of it all was allot for the boy of one and six who had never seen more than a simunition shot in his direction in his lifetime. The other soldiers who behind him sung stanza after stanza called him the slang term "Smooth-boy" in reference to both his lack of facial hair and the absence of "Scratches" on the shoulder of his battle dress. The term scratches were what soldiers called their mark of experience, each stripe or scratch a soldier had on his arms marks the completion of a campaign and a soldiers seniority within a unit. His Sergeant at Arms, Lukas had five stripes upon his left arm, he was the loudest amongst the supposed chopper choir.

The green digitally patterned NH90 utility helicopter made a hard bank as it came around for another pass over the convoy of MRAPs, Armored Cars, Trucks, and Tanks bellow. Dejan caught a glimpse of the other helicopters in the patrol (a pair of AH-1Zs, and three other NH90s) as they made the turn. He looked bellow him at the highway as the trucks began to make the turn around one foot or another of the mountains. It had been several hours since they had been up in the air doing overwatch over the convoy. They would occasionally trade off with another company whenever their captain fancied the idea of his sutler whore waiting him back at our forward camp and staging area. Dejan however just fancied the idea of the first contact just happening and getting it over with. He knew as soon as it happened he would be the first out since he was the newest, he recalled Lukas saying he needed to break his "combat cherry". He checked his M89 combat bayonet to ensure it was fixed tightly on his FN-SCAR-H, no need for another lost bayonet and his ass being drug through the mud again by Lukas for loosing a vital piece of equipment. Sure enough it was on there and the mag too was fixed and ready to go, it was just a matter of waiting for it all to happen. Dejan shook back and fourth suddenly as one of his comrades shook him violently by the shoulders squeezing the blood out of them laughing.

"Is smooth boy ready to get it in eh?" Kodey a screwball scratched men-at-arms yelled over the rotor wash. He squeezed the shit out of Dejan's cheek and patted him on the other. "Look, the bloods out his poor white face." He bellowed as he pointed to the pale complexion of Dejan who visibly looked stressed. Lukas crawled over to him as Dejan tried to look unconcerned and out over the landscape.

"You alright laddy?" He put a hand on the back of his neck.

"Ja" Dejan popped in a wad of tobacco in his mouth and looked back over the mountain.

"The first battle is in your head ya know." He said as he pointed his half gloved finger at Dejan's drab green helmet. "You'll be fine, we've trained for a year now. Finally you'll get a scratch at the end of his and not be called a smoothboy. So get the stick out of your pussy." He whacked him on the back one more time before joining the chorus of _"Achesia the Mighty"_.

Dejan did not ease his fear however, he just receded into himself more. But thats when it happened, it seemed all too sudden as the first few anti tank missiles began to hit the MRAPs in the convoy. Several exploded with such violence that they flipped either into a ditch next to the road or onto another Achesian vehicle. Thats when small arms fire began from the side of the mountain, an ambush. Dejan could hear over the radio that they had hit the M60s front of the column, effectively stoping the advance. Thats when the NH90 began to make some maneuvers that Dejan's stomach really did appreciate. Iakob a rather salty man with a large unkept beard began to let it loose with the side mounted M240, throwing rounds down on the heads of the Wankan shits that were shooting at the boys on the ground. Dejan almost lost it all together as a AH-1Z Viper shot under their NH90, letting a whole payload of rockets out onto some unlucky SOBs (what the Achesian soldiers have begun to refer to the SOABs as). Lukas kept to his head piece listening to the commands coming down to their sections from hirer.

"Arlight, Sur Giannis has ordered us down to take these SOBs on proper. Ready your kits." He slapped around his mag a bit to make sure it was mounted correctly. He crawled over again to Dejan who was sitting on the side of the cabin his bayonet mounted rifle at the ready. "Boy, you know the right, your out first. Bring glory to the Berislav name, else your Color Sergeant daddy mighty cry a'lil if he found out his boy was craven."

Dejan nodded as he held tightly to his SCAR. He check over his equipment one more time. Helmet... check, Vest... check, Mags... check. He brushed his hand one more time on his dark green digi patterned uniform. He watched as the treetops bellow began to approach, it would be time soon as the chopper looked for a clearing. Dejan could see some movement bellow, the Wankans were watching them come in, it was going to be a fight.

"Who knew lil' ol' infantry like us were going to be Goon'in it up." Alkiviadis a younger men-at-arms with only one scratch on his arm laughed as he charged his 1911 and holstered it once more.

"A baby like you wasn't in Coastbourne when we fucked that one village hard after we jumped out the little Hueys." Iakob turned back from the M240 long enough to put his two cents in.

Dejan didn't even hear any of this, he just watched the ground come up... fast. 

_"Lay me doon in the caul caul groon_  
 _Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun_  
 _Lay me doon in the caul caul groon_  
 _Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun_

 _When they come a wull staun ma groon_  
 _Staun ma groon al nae be afraid_

 _Thoughts awe hame tak awa ma fear_  
 _Sweat an bluid hide ma veil awe tears_

 _Ains a year say a prayer faur me_  
 _Close yir een an remember me_

 _Nair mair shall a see the sun_  
 _For a fell tae a Germans gun "_

"Alright, go on my mark, Ill be right behind you... GO!" Lukas gave him a push as they came up on the ground fast. Dejan fell down to the deck fast, he barely caught himself and missed a boulder as he hit the side of the mountain. Quickly he shot up weapon in hand, the black steel of his bayonet reaching down the barrel of his rifle. He covered his sectors and saw no signs of the enemy... until the RPG shot from the tree line several hundred yards away. It zipped through the air and the NH90 barely had a chance to move up when it hit right in the cockpit. Several of Dejan's squad-mates were thrown from the chopper which was at least 30 feet above the ground. They hit the threes and the ground hard. Dejan quickly dispatched the SOB that fired the rocket with a quick burt of his 7.62mm before he even noticed the NH90 plummeting towards him. He sprinted away the best the can before he felt the heat of the explosion from the impacting helicopter. As the dust settled he began to hear the sounds of the battle all around him, panicked and alone he wasn't sure where he was anymore. He started to see only fog until he could hear a familiar but frazzled voice from beyond.

"Dejan...Dejan...!" Lukas crackled a few meters from Dejan's position. As the smooth-boy ran towards his reagents position he soon realized the tragedy of his current situation. Lukas was half the man he used to be, almost all of his body waist down was gone. He looked up at Dejan blood curdling in his mouth. The words barely making it out of his mouth. "Kill... me..."

Shaking, Dejan held back the tears, he couldn't cry he was man now, not a smooth boy, he took his rifle... and plunged the bayonet in Lukas' heart. The life left Lukas after a few moments of the 50 centimeter blade being held in his heart, he let out one last curdle of blood before he looked towards the sky without a soul. Dejan grimaced as he pulled the blade out. He could look no more at the scene, only the bodies of his fellow comrades remained, their souls were gone.

It didn't take long to hear the ringing of the machine gun nest beyond him, down the slope from his current position. Dejan leapt towards a pair of large oaks that were near his position, he could make out the enemy position from there. It was a squad sized element of SOBs operating a crew served weapon firing down at the convoy bellow. From what Dejan could see most of the Achesian convoy was destroyed or barely fighting back, some vehicles were managing to fall back to a safer position. Above a few helicopters flew overheard still, but mostly the Vipers giving CAS to the embattled infantry squads much like Dejan's. He focused back in on the SOBs bellow him. They seemed to have gotten over or not even heard the crashing helicopter drama that had just unfolded. Dejan decided to move a bit closer to get a better position, perhaps with their backs turned he had a chance to deal some damage before he was inevitably claimed by the fighting.

As soon as he got up however he shot right back down, they were coming. Two men, marching up the hill towards the helicopter with weapons drawn. Seems they did take notice to the situation, but must be confident that most were dead here, perhaps they were coming to verify. Dejan would have to wait for them to get close, lest he garner the nest's attention and have a crew served on top of him, not ideal. The two men continued their advance up the hill, they wore the uniforms of the SOABs but they sure didn't seem to act like what the intelligence had said, these guys were professionals. They walked and as soon as he could hear, talked like his dead squad-mates, not like some farmer-boy Wanker from the hinterlands. They soon passed the trees Dejan was crouched at, not even bothering to look back and see if it was clear. This gave him the chance, he unmounted his bayonet which was more a short sword than anything and approached as silently as he could. He had plenty of ambient noise from the nest behind him rattling rounds off, he came behind the first man and reached around with his sword, splitting his throat wide open. The half scream then gurgle alerted his friend to the attack, but to his surprise the half dead corpse of his partner was lunging towards him, with Dejan behind it. As soon as he was close enough he shoved the body onto the other SOAB and swung around to cut the man at the knees. With a scream he fell to the ground but at the same time his weapon fired into the dirt, and contrary to Dejan's luck was at a time when the nest was not firing.

"Was war das, du bist ok Bruder?"

"Ruprecht bist du da?"

The men bellow continued to yell towards their dead comrades location. But they obviously didn't answer, soon the fire began as they turned the crew served towards Dejans position and let loose. He jumped behind his former oak position fast but not before he took a round to the leg. He scooted himself behind cover in agony as the rounds ate up the tree around him. He managed only to turn around for a brief moment to return fire with his SCAR. But he soon took a round to the shoulder and that would be it. He lay now face up looking at the sky, his blood joining the earth, as his body soon would as it lay in the open. He breathed heavily thinking of home. His mother and father as they sat in their home back in Imperium eating supper. His sister as they both played in the gardens many years ago as children. Erna the bakers daughter and her bright smile and ample bosom. All of this as he swore he could hear the sirens calling him home to the afterlife, but reality came back to him for one failing moment as he realized that was not the sirens of myth, but the incoming 155mm round that splashed just a meter from his head. The heat alone sent him to eternity before another passing moment of reality could grasp his slipping mind.

His own savior from the mortal plane was not the only one of its kind. In fact all matter of ordinance hailed down on the mountain and road side to claim the wretched souls of those who were embattled, Achesian and Wankan. Some Achesians who had a moment to bask in their bend bent down on their knees in worship as they knew as Resolutes there was no more glorious an end than to die in combat, they accepted their fate with outstretched arms. Hundreds of artillery rounds poured over the Ambush point as the mountain side exploded. Some Achesian vehicles managed to make it north of the strike zone to the friendly positions but not many. As soon as the massive artillery barrage was complete MAS.88 Lindworms came in to have the last laugh, dropping HE all over the mountainside, they avoided the road to allow for future forward movement but they made sure to cover the entirety of the mountain side. When all was said and down nothing would be left alive in the strike zone, Achesian or Wankan. It was not beyond the courage of the Achesian High Command to let a battalion two of its own troops go to prove a point to their enemies... undying determination and sacrifice of its men.

The remaining three of five battalions of the III Legion which made up the vanguard were halted 10 miles south of the scorched earth. They were set up in defense in case of impending attack by any more ambushing enemies. The sounds of the explosions could be heard by all of the soldiers present in the front, and they knew that it would be a glorious sight to behold, the pinnacle of Achesian firepower being proven to their enemies who now were being sent to meet their false makers. Oblivion was not a friendly place but for those who defied the Ackular of Man it was a marcy to only be sent straight to it instead of sent in pieces. As the bombardment of artillery and airstrikes on the position ahead of the convoy ended several recon helicopters, ARH-70s and AH-1Zs were sent ahead to scout the aftermath. All they would find would be black dust and fire. The hulks of Achesian vehicles would be left in the middle of route 68 as derelicts, anything still found moving with no question was given fire from these helicopters. The line would be made here where the ambush was conducted. The hulks of Achesian vehicles would be moved to block the road as the III Legion began to set up a line across the mountain and route. Several firebases would be erected to defend the line from any Wankan advance. The advanced towards Seigen was at a halt for now, and would be seen as a failure by the command.

Further to the north at Reiterhof more Achesians were landing as the battle engulfed the III Legion to the south. The infamous "Wyverns" Achesian Air Dragoons were unloading their brand new Monarch Aerial Systems .78 "B'l'ak" Utility Helicopters. These flying horses would carry them in and out of battle as they battled the Wankan advance. The "Wyverns" were specially dreaded for their several colonial campaigns in Eld-Audian where they repressed several instances of rebellion. Accompanying the Wyverns were an even more dreaded Achesian military unit, a Brigade of the Acklius' Royal Rangers. These elite commandos were perfect for the mountain terrain and fighting hit and run style against the Nazi forces. Achesia was committing fully to this battle, and it did'nt intend to loose.

 _ **Highway 68**_  
 _ **Point Kessel, SEKS Ambush Location**_  
 _ **First Day, ca. 16:00 Hours**_

Initially, the ambush went very, very well. The overall commander of the operation, Jens Lukas Haradra, watched with satisfaction as the leading tanks were disabled, which stopped the entire column. This gave his RPG men easy, stationary targets to fire at, and his men didn't waste the chance. RPGs and small-arms fire proved an effective combination as no Achesian soldier below was safe; meanwhile, just like this morning in the north, the mountains provided some excellent cover and elevation which made them nearly invulnerable to direct fire from below. In response, the choppers above had opened fire with their miniguns and rockets, sweeping bullets across the suspected Sellenwanker position. To little effect; the fog made it rather difficult to identify the Wankan positions. And soon after, the choppers were discouraged by individual short-range SAMs which looped into the air, mostly missing their targets. The "Pfeil" MANPAD was difficult to operate without extensive training, and the jittering nerves only made it worse. But it did encourage the enemy choppers to back off a little.

So far, so good. Then the Achesians attempted to land soldiers to directly combat the SOABs via helicopter, something which didn't turn out well for the unfortunate enemy, whose choppers stood little chance against the RPGs and MANPADs. Haradra had watched one of the choppers get hit by an RPG, which quickly crashed dramatically into the mountain, presumably with a squad of young Achesian soldiers. He'd turned back to the battle, which was going well. Numerous Achesian tanks and armored personnel carriers lay destroyed on the highway; dismounted soldiers took cover between them, trying to shield themselves from the deadly cross-fire. Damaged vehicles retreated slowly in face of heavy RPG fire, their mounted machine guns blazing, the occasional missile screaming toward the mountains. And then there was a whistle, and a massive explosion which sent Haradra flying into a nearby bush. In front of him, his second-in-command and good friend of his, known only as "Leo", lay screaming on the floor. His right leg below the knee was no more, what was left was a mess of flesh and blood. It was time to leave before the enemy artillery blew them to smithereens. Picking up his radio, his spoke loudly:

 _"Alle Tiger-Rufzeichen, alle Tiger-Rufzeichen, hier ist Tiger-Eins, fallt zurück, wiederhole: Zurückfallen!"_ _  
_  
("All Tiger callsigns, this is Tiger-One, fall back, I repeat: fall back!")

However, as he cleaned up whatever he could of Leo, he saw that none of the RAPE commanders took heed of his orders. The positions, which he'd mostly chosen himself, were too good, it seemed, and now it was working against them. The former Wankan military officer watched in disbelief as the RAPEs on both sides of the mountain remained rooted in their locations, firing at the enemy below while ignoring the ever-increasing number of artillery shells exploding around them. Haradra was in no position to see their fate. The other six men of his squad, one of which was lightly injured, rapidly scampered through their pre-planned escape route. The vegetation provided good cover from any choppers; nevertheless, the occasional shell accompanied them along. He just thought they'd made it to safety when an Achesian fighter, roaring close over their heads, launched a missile right into their midst. The men were thrown apart, one, a tough 19-year old machine-gunner, was clearly dead, his body pulverized by the almost direct impact of the blast. Haradra dropped Leo, who seemed stable enough for now, and ran over to check on the others. Two others, both RPG men, stood up, bloodied but only superficially wounded. The other three… their situation wasn't so good. One had his arm blown off, the others had shrapnel stuck all over their bodies.

 _"Tiger-Eins zu Basis Drei-Eins und Basis-E, wir brauchen dringend Unterstützung. Vier Männer kritisch verwundet. Wiederhole, brauchen sofortige Hilfe!"_ _  
_  
"(Tiger One to Base 31 and Base E, we need immediate support. Four men are critically wounded, I repeat, we need immediate help)!"

His last words were shouted in pure desperation. The officers at the SEKS supply base acknowledged, and reported that a team of medics were on the way. However, it was some four kilometers away, through this kind of terrain… Haradra had little reason to be optimistic for his comrades. He and the two other Wankers attempted to stabilize the wounded, which was the only thing they could do until the WAF doctors arrived.

Hours later, back at their headquarters in one of the villages in central Sellenland, the three unscathed men sat gloomily around the radio. Sonderführer Hennings congratulatory speech did little to improve the mood. The one who'd lost his arm, a 21-year old Sellenwanker, had not made it. Leo, Haradras childhood friend, lay in critical condition in the hospital that the WAF had set up in the village. The two of them listened in as Haradra attempted to raise the other RAPEs. The two army squad commanders responded, reporting that their units were more or less intact and were returning back to Siegen. However, nothing was heard of the remaining four RAPEs who'd participated in the attack. Of the 62 men involved in the ambush, eighteen lay confirmed dead on the Westallgäuer mountains, fourteen were wounded and another eight, an entire RAPE, were presumed to have perished in close combat with Achesian airborne troops. This amounted to a nearly 65% casualty rate, losses which would deeply affect the SEKS combat power in the upcoming weeks. Haradra blamed himself for not ordering an earlier pull-out, and for not warning his troops of the inherent danger of the Achesian artillery, although it did confuse him as to why they were apparently so unwilling to disengage in face of the bombardment.

However, the atmosphere in the SOAB headquarters was much more different. After receiving congratulations from his superiors in the Wankan Army, a joyous Henning gave all SEKS units in the Sellenland green light to engage. Hunting RAPEs along the highways readied themselves to disrupt the AAA logistical systems and cause chaos amongst their lines. Low-flying helicopters would not be safe anywhere above the mountains, where a random MANPAD missile could easily swat them from the skies. Around the Achesian defensive perimeters set up around the ambush point, Haradra was ordered to start ambushing patrols and attacking firebases. These would be coordinated with sniper teams which would make no soldier feel safe outside his armored personnel carrier. Information on the successful ambush was forwarded to the head of the provisional Sellenland government, Franz von Heidelberg, another well-known Wankan rights activist whose name was being used to gain the support of the Sellenwanker population. He would then make a statement for the press, which would hopefully attract more volunteers to the Sellenwanker cause.

Meanwhile, news of the victory spread quickly amongst the SOAB ranks. In Siegen, the local battalion paused the construction of the village defenses, celebrating together with the men and women of the 77th Regiment. The ambush was a much-needed morale booster for the SOAB after the debacle on the northern junction.

 **Biergarten** **  
** **Central Sellenland** **  
** **First Day, ca. 18:00 Hours**

Now that the strategically important towns had been seized and secured, the men of the SOAB turned towards the numerous villages and hamlets dotting central Sellenland. Deep within the Sellenland mountains, cut off from the outside world, one wouldn't think that these isolated settlements would be of any significance to the Sellenwankers. But the opposite was true. The villages, it was decided, would form an important part of the rebel supply network. SEKS hit-and-run units would use it as a safe haven, a hiding spot and a supplies depot.

It was also planned to be the emergency supplies centers for the regular Wankan Army battalions which would start slowly advancing up the center. The main problem for the Wankan Army was that the mountains posed significant difficulties for the logistics corps. Long routes had to be taken through the mountains to be able to keep an army battalion functioning, and the unstable weather more often than not would force the convoys to a standstill. So the plan was to advance along the northern and southern edges of central Sellenland, allowing the troops to be supplied by the highways. Patrols would then keep watch over the central area to guard against any sneak attacks.

However, approximately 70% of the central Sellenland village population was Aemen, and they certainly wouldn't welcome the "liberation" by soldiers disguised as Sellenwankers. To prevent any interference by the local population, small groups of SOAB militiamen began descending the mountains to clear the settlements of Aemen citizens. The armed men, with the assistance of lists of Aemen inhabitants, began forcing themselves into the property of the Aemen civilians, ordering them at gunpoint to gather up their belongings and leave immediately. Whoever refused was beaten and dragged toward the village center, together with known civil servants. No resistance was encountered, apart from the couple of occasions where the locals defended their property with shotguns, hunting rifles and old pistols which were quickly silenced by automatic rifle fire. As the sun descended, marking the end of the day of the liberation of the Sellenland, numerous old and tattered pick-up trucks, motorcycles, cars and even families on foot streamed toward the northwest, heading toward the reported Achesians, whose location was readily revealed by the SOAB fighters. At the same time, "political prisoners" and anyone who resisted were tied-up, loaded onto trucks and sent to join the increasing population of "prisoners-of-war" in the Brenzlau concentration camp.

For the rest of the day, unmarked army vehicles streamed throughout the streets of the Sellenland, with mobile air-defense vehicles fending off the occasional AAA fighter jet. The defenses prepared by the elite 101st "Edelweiss" Division was taken over by the "Cave-Sweepers", the 26th Mountain Division. Fragmented armor and mechanized units continued to arrive. The initial lines had been consolidated, the Achesian quick response forces were halted. In the north, the Aemen defenders had dispersed and were allowed to retreat back to Reiterhof. With the first phase of the operation complete with all the objectives achieved, Wankan army planners prepared for the next phase: Securing central Sellenland and marching on to Reiterhof. In the south, troops of the 77th Regiment and the elite Schwarze-Kavallerie-Jägerregiment made its way cautiously through the mountains to the village of Horb, with the task of dislodging and crushing the Achesian forces anchored at Point Kessel. In the center, elements of the 76th Regiment made their way toward Biergarten, a strategically important village connecting virtually all villages in central Sellenland. Further north, the 75th Regiment trekked its way through the difficult terrain alongside Highway 69, with advance units making contact with the SOAB administration at Kalk. Most troops went on foot; with exception to the small Wiesel weapons carrier and to some extent the Mountain-Personnel-Carrier Husky, vehicles had to take long diversions to join their units on the towering mountains.


	13. Ulbor Devecht

" **Ulbor Devecht"**

 **Reiterhof**  
 **Forty eight hours after Rette den Brude**

"They did what!?" Bezuidenhout shouted at a Sub-Brigadier as he was informed of the latest from the front. "They defied me! I told them specifically to follow the Aemen convoy up Highway 69 so that we could divide the Sellenwanker forces! Instead I'm receiving reports about how the Achesians are making their way south contrary to MY orders!"

The Field Marshal, on the advice of the Inspectorate, had relocated his command centre to Reiterhof's City Hall from the airfield for safety concerns. Occupying the Lord Mayor's office, Bezuidenhout had his men sweep away the room's calm and quaint appeal, replacing it with a harsh atmosphere of buzzing military radios, constantly updated maps and an imposing portrait of himself on the day he received the honour of becoming the army's second non-royal Field Marshal since the House of Olbridge ascended to the throne. The Sub-Brigadier, fresh from the Harrow Military Academy's Senior Officer Preparation Course, held himself high in the face of the furious Marshal. "Two battalions of Achesian infantry were decimated by mountain ambushes. The surrounding terrain of all the highways provides them with an advantage; it'd be impossible for us to accurately pinpoint where they would attack us from. We'll break through eventually but we may suffer heavy casualties."

Bezuidenhout pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he had no choice but to order the advance to continue onwards, lest he face his career coming to an incredibly impotent end and the Sellenland being lost to an enemy that was assumed to be inferior. "Then burn them, Sub-Brigadier de Klerk. Order the terrain surrounding the highway to be bombed and have the convoy advance up the road thirty minutes after. I will not - I will NOT - have a military campaign under my command be beaten back by a ragtag band of jumped up civilians wielding weapons they don't even know the names of and I refuse to have it slowed by allies who cannot recognise a strategic advantage when they see one!"

The Sub-Brigadier was taken aback slightly by the Marshal's outrage. Ultimately, however, he nodded in agreement with his superior. "Yes, sir!" De Klerk saluted before turning towards the door and marching out of it, briefly letting in the loud chatter of the intelligence staff assembled in the other room.

Bezuidenhout took a breath and stared out of the office's window at the entrance to city hall, which was barricaded and under constant watch. He knew how this had to end and he wasn't about to let the Sellenwankers prove him wrong. 

**Highway 69**  
 **The Sellenland**

Many soldiers of the advancing 47th Mechanised Infantry were nearing the end of or halfway through their compulsory service to the crown and as such were facing their first real battle with a mix of youthful confidence and suppressed fear. The highway, though it suffered some minor blockage in the form of dirt, rubble and rocks, was otherwise untouched by the bombing and was still suitable for the vehicles rolling slowly over them. What laid around it was a sight of pure destruction; trees had been blown from the ground and laid on the burned black ground, deformed and charred. Beyond the highway's side railings, large brown craters of what used to be lush green grass now dotted the landscape and the burned bodies of men were strewn across the plains. Whether they were civilians or militants, the soldiers were told not to care - all Sellenwankers were considered enemies at this point.

As the trees and fields vanished at the higher altitudes, the bombers had also made their marks on the mountains. Large rocks dislodged in the attack pushed against the safety bars of the highway's side, making the bars seem like they were struggling to hold back the weight. There were no corpses present, but no resistance either, giving the Aemen the impression that the bombings must have had a psychological effect on anyone waiting in ambush. As it would turn out, they were wrong.

The first signs came as stones and small rocks fell down the rocky hillside next to the convoy which was assumed to be caused by the rumbling and vibrations of the vehicles as they inched along the road, the second came as black smoke rose into the air and soon came into view as being from a downed Aemen jet that had been destroyed whilst delivering its payload. As the 47th crept further into the unknown, the mountains suddenly became alive with gunfire and bullets pinged off of the ground, striking some soldiers down immediately. Luckily, the Aemen had been preparing for this. The armoured carriers pulled up to the edges of the road, lining up to shield the infantry who soon began using the APCs as their own cover from the ambush. This sort of stalemate would have continued for much longer had it not been for the Usurper tanks, which were able to edge up to the front of the convoy with the space now available, and use the force of their main guns to root out the primary troublemaking SOAB positions. The Aemen soldiers had to work fast in the face of an invisible opponent; if the ambushers had RPGs or grenades on hand, then the advance could end up limping on without the resources that were needed to take Krakenhof.

"Ulbor devecht! Ulbor devecht!" shouted one of the Lieutenant-Technicians. Ulbor devecht, essentially 'bloody hands', was an incredibly ancient term thought to have been used in the language of the Heer, Aemen's founders. It had been adopted by the military as an order for troops to engage in close-quarters combat. Under the cover of mounted machine-gun fire coming from the APCs and the secondary weapons of the tanks, the Aemen broke from their cover, vaulting over the railings of the highway and throwing themselves on their stomachs to avoid being seen by their attackers. As the soldiers crawled up to the highest point, their attackers leapt up from their holes to fire again on the convoy and were surprised to see their opponents directly in front of them. A lot of Aemen soldiers reacted first, shooting or physically slamming the end of their weapons into the faces of the Wankans, stunning them briefly and leaving them vulnerable. Some, however, weren't so quick on the draw and found themselves being pulled into the Wankans pits before engaging in a brutal hand-to-hand situation, which is what the entire ambush eventually descended into as the Aemen convoy held its fire.

In the end, as the surviving soldiers returned from the dug-in positions of the Wankans victorious, but by no means jubilant, the convoy found itself bruised in its losses of infantry. Wounds had to be sutured, the dead counted and registered, repairs tended to by engineers, but afterwards the 47th Mechanised Infantry and its supporting tanks lumbered on in the name, and for the glory, of their King.

"Welcome to Freiheit, Ehrlichkeit, Wahrheit- English, Wankas primary news agency, bringing you fresh updates from the unrest in the Sellenland. My name is Justin Hepburn, and with me is Juliana von Hodingen.

"Freedom fighters from the Sellenwanker Ober-Allgäuer Batallione have ambushed Aemen-Achesian-Alliance forces yesterday afternoon as these attempted to reconquer territory liberated by the SOAB. A SOAB government official, who spoke on condition of anonymity, claimed that as many as 150 AAA troops had been killed with well over a hundred wounded. Casualties on the SOAB side numbered four killed and ten wounded, the official claimed. When contacted, the Aemen foreign ministry declined to comment. In retaliation, AAA military aircraft have launched a massive campaign of airstrikes on suspected SOAB positions today, which began this morning. Our correspondent, Antonio Ziegler, has travelled to the area to monitor the situation. Antonio, we have seen footage captured by Wankan civilians, what is going on down there?"

"I am currently on the outskirts of Echterdorf. As you can see, things are pretty quiet around here, as the AAA jets have mainly focused on bombing targets along the front. The Aemen officials have claimed that they are only targeting rebel positions, but very shockingly, hundreds, and possibly thousands of fleeing Aemen and Wankan civilians have been killed or wounded. Aemen fighters have used napalm extensively in this campaign, and the results, as we've all seen in the footage captured by Wankan refugees, have shown us how lethal this ordnance is. Napalm is basically flammable liquid which is easily spread over large surfaces and burns the skin as it reaches to temperatures more than ten times higher than boiling water. Behind me is the Echterdorfer hospital which is currently overflowing with victims of napalm attacks. However, the airspace is not completely safe for the AAA air forces. This afternoon, an Aemen fighter was shot down by a SOAB man-portable surface to air missile. The wreckage was found just two hours ago, with the pilot dead inside."

"Thank you, Antonio. In response to the indiscriminate attacks on Sellenwankers, the Meinhof administration has expressed outrage and has warned that this escalation only served to make the situation worse. Aussenminister Heinrich von Preisen has stated that the Wankan government would soon begin humanitarian missions to evacuate affected civilians out of the conflict zone. He has also threatened to implement sanctions against the Aemen regime in case they don't immediately pursue negotiations with the provisional Sellenwankan government. In a sign of worsening tensions between the Volksrepublik and the Aemen government, the Meinhof administration has this afternoon declared the Aemen ambassador to Wanka a _persona non grata_ after State Security allegedly uncovered evidence showing that the diplomat was engaged in illegal arms smuggling."

 **Highway 69** **  
** **ca. 40 kilometers Echterdorf Junction** **  
** **Day 3, ca. 04:00 Hours**

Usually, traffic along Highway 69 was light; however, today, it was eerily empty- apart from a small group of menacing military vehicles which navigated its way through the light fog which covered the entire area. Leading the convoy was Hauptmann Roland Katsnaroff who stood out over the drivers hatch of his Panzer-90, scanning the area with his binoculars as the tank rode roughly across the badly-maintained roads. As a _Füsilier_ , the mechanized troops of the WAF, he was used to the trembling of his tank, but not to the strong, icy winds which froze his uncovered ears. Even after several weeks living in altitudes of over 1,000 meters, he had not properly acclimatized to the tough Sellenland climate.

At last, he arrived at his destination. He jumped off his tank and surveyed the area, at the same time bracing himself against the wind. At his disposal was a company of 15 tanks pilfered from _Panzerbattalion Nr. 2107_ , four Schützenpanzer-10 infantry fighting vehicles with a platoon of Füsiliers from the 2nd Battalion of his 21st Regiment. Providing air cover were six rather cute Ozelot vehicles armed with short range surface-to-air missiles, whose two-troop crews immediately set out to cover the vehicles with camouflage nets after they found suitable fighting spots. The terrain was suitable enough for this job. Katsnaroff's mission was to engage the approaching Aemen, fire off a few rounds, retreat to the next positions; rinse and repeat. The rolling mountain feet were perfectly formed for that; he was optimistic that his unit would find good defensive positions to fight from.

Katsnaroff turned to his platoon commanders who had gathered around him.

"Schultz and Sükrös, establish your defensive positions on the west side. Würdemann, von Lökring, establish yours on the east side. You know what to do. I want them to stretch back to Keitl's position."

"Jaa-woll, Herr Hauptmann!"

"I will inspect the forward positions in half an hour. Dismissed."

He held back the commander of the Füsilier platoon, a young _Leutnant_.

"Stay with me. We'll be supporting them from up there." Katsnaroff pointed toward a section of the mountain several hundred meters from the frontline positions.

"Have your troops stay dismounted and watch for enemy choppers. All three Schützenpanzer will be providing covering fire, along with my platoon. Be ready to move any second."

As he reached his tank, he was greeted by his radio operator who gave him an update on the latest transmission from Ellenburg. A pair of sniper teams would alert them of any enemy approach. Katsnaroff shook his head, looking at the infantry platoon commander.

"That isn't good enough, with this unpredictable weather and goddamn fog, those little snipers and their scopes might miss their approach. I need at least a twenty minute warning, so that we can hide the tanks and protect them from air attack until the 47th arrives. Send a Schützenpanzer along with a recon team out."

"Zu Befehl, Herr Hauptmann."

Katsnaroff unfolded a map of the Sellenland, sneezing twice in rapid succession in the process. Around five kilometers behind him was another similar delaying force. His force would have to fight while retreating until they would be replaced with that unit; they would then each take turn to pull back, the other unit providing cover, until the entire weight of the 7th Füsilier-Division would be thrown into a massed counterattack, which would hopefully throw the Aemen 47th all the way back to Reiterhof. That was the plan, at least. He had to slow the momentum of the 47th down, and buy time for the 7th Füsiliers to reorganize themselves for the counterattack and to allow the 75th Mountain Infantry Regiment, which was located in the mountains south of the highway, time to organize their battalions to provide flanking support. AAA air activity up to now had been focused on providing close air support on the advancing troops. Katsnaroff hoped that his Ozelot SPAAVs, with their twin short-range SAM launchers, would be able to deal with that threat when it came. He heard that an air-defense battery of the 75th Mountain Infantry Regiment had already claimed its first kill with the surface-to-air missile system which on paper had a probability of striking its target at 2 kilometers of 90%. Which was most likely only possible with clear, blue skies. The fog would work both ways, however. Air support and air defense would both be affected.

Katsnaroff was in no hurry. The day before, learning from the Achesian experience on Highway 68, the Aemen Air Force had bombarded the mountains lining 69. Many SEKS units lying in ambush managed to flee on time, although several of them were nevertheless decimated. But the main impact was that when these units returned, their positions were found to be burned to the ground or lay as charred waste on the once beautiful Allgäuer valleys. Forests and other dense vegetations could not be used as cover. The following improvised ambushes laid by the SEKS proved to be costly. Advancing slowly cautiously, the Aemen troops responded swiftly to any disturbance, often sending vehicles and dismounted mechanized infantry to overrun SEKS positions before they could flee. This delayed the Aemen forces long enough that Katsnaroff and his 7th Füsiliers had a lot of time to prepare the defense of the Sellenland… at the cost of dozens of Sellenwankers.

Around two hours later, the pair of look-outs from the recon team sounded the alarm as a pair of Aemen armored reconnaissance vehicles raced out of the mist. The other eight men, playing cards within the Schützenpanzer (which was hidden away amongst the large boulders), scrambled out of the vehicle, clicking the safeties off their weapons. Taking position in previously prepared positions, they awaited the arrival of the Aemen scouts. However, their movement had been spotted, and the machine gun on the leading vehicle fired bursts of gunfire in their direction. The squad anti-tank gunner rose into view, sending a Panzerfaust-3 rocket screaming toward the enemy vehicles, before being hurled back down by a bullet to his shoulder. The rocket impacted less than a meter in front of the first vehicle, sending its front into the air, before it landed back down safely. Troops began piling out of both vehicles as their machine guns released a long fusillade, sweeping the area with fire. An intense five-minute firefight ensued, with the men of the recon team exchanging fire on the rocky offroad terrain which lined the highway. The Wankan squad soon pulled back in an orderly manner, quickly reaching their hidden Schützenpanzer. Smoke grenades masked the exit of the recon team, which disappeared just as the first units of Aemen armor arrived to support. One man was left behind, killed by a grenade blast, while two others were wounded. He radioed back to Hauptmann Katsnaroff: _"Die Emner kommen, wiederhole, die Emner kommen!"_ ("The Aemeners are coming, repeat, the Aemeners are coming!")

The response was instantaneous. Tank engines were started, camouflage nets were packed in. From their sheltered hiding spots, grey Wankan armor appeared, growling loudly as they readied themselves for combat. The real fight for Highway 69 was about to begin.


	14. Diene Das Vadderland

**Quarton Heath**  
 **Thirty seven miles southeast of Erus**

"They look a bit shaken." said Dr. Orson Carrick as he sat in one of the base's observation rooms and compared the prisoner notes in his hands to the people themselves through the security cameras. Several SOABs, upon seeing the devastating impact of the AAA bombing campaign, surrendered or were left behind and captured by Aemen and Achesian forces who promptly sent them to Reiterhof, where they were then transported to Quarton Heath, one of Reginald's best kept secrets and a highly secure facility located in the middle of a wooded shrubland away from prying eyes. Quarton had been established since the days of Reginald's grandfather, Stephen XI, under the command of the Ministry of Initiative. It was what was referred to in all official documentation as a 'centre for research into deterrence warfare.' What deterrence warfare actually meant to the other nations of Septentrion is entirely up for interpretation, but to the Aemen monarchy it was a way of using brutal psychological experiments to win conflicts.

"What do you expect? The guards aren't particularly friendly towards them." added Dr. Edward Winslow who was stood beside him, reading through the session notes of previous days. Carrick and Winslow were part of the facility's leading research team and had previously worked on projects for the University of Marresburg. Now, under personal invitation from Prince Tavish, they had joined Quarton Heath's staff and were spearheading the way into winning back the Sellenland from behind the scenes. "Defining characteristics of motivation include nationalistic beliefs, hatred towards monarchal authority and profound symptoms of an Us vs. Them mentality. Prisoners 2B and 3A are the first we'll be focusing on for weak-point detection, they're currently exhibiting signs of PTSD possibly due to the bombing campaign. I suggest photographic and audio stimulation to see if this is correct."

Carrick observed Prisoner 2B and Prisoner 3A through the cameras. 2B was sat down, huddled in the corner of his cell and was a noticeable victim of the bombing; his right arm and parts of his neck were scarred with the tell tale signs of burn marks. 3A, meanwhile, was more active and banging against the walls of his room, screaming obscenities in Wankan and demanding to know why he was locked up. Carrick rubbed his chin as he observed the man's manic actions. "Record both prisoners' sleeping patterns after today's session. We'll check it against the behaviour of the others to see if there is a common factor amongst them." He stood up, moving towards the room's exit with the prisoner profiles in his hand. "I'm going to get a coffee. It'll be a long day if 3A's going to act like that for the next twelve hours."

Winslow turned on his heel to face his colleague, briefly stalling the progress of the notes he was taking. "Get me one too will you? I need to feel revitalised for my observation today."

As Carrick walked out into the hospital-like hallway, he took a moment to reflect about what this was all for. Carrick didn't often like to involve himself in the nasty stuff that did happen at Quarton, he left that to the doctors with the stronger stomachs and the sadistic streaks, but, in the name of progress, discovery and victory, he was more than happy to indulge in the preliminary checks, bringing out any mental defects or flaws in the captive SOABs before seeking something that linked them all together, something that Bezuidenhout could use to his advantage on the battlefield.

 **Kronstadt** **  
** **Rote Haus** **  
** **Day 3** **  
** **0800 Hours**

[Transcript of the Security Councils meeting on Day Three of the Sellenland Conflict]

Generalfeldmarschall Ludwig von der Leijen [CINC-Sellenland]: _Frau Kanzlerin_ , you must give me permission to use combat helicopters immediately. Our troops are already engaging the enemy on 69.

Ulrike Meinhof [Chancellor]: _Herr Vonderlein_ , sending Panzers to the Sellenland already poses great political risks. Helicopters will likely break our façade almost immediately.

Generalfeldmarschall Ludwig von der Leijen: You're threatening to undermine the drive to Reiterhof. Any delay will only result in more AAA troops landing in the warzone which will threaten to turn this into a long, drawn-out conflict. The longer the conflict, the lower the chance of complete victory, and the lower the benefits, as we will be relying more and more on oil imports from NAZI nations.

Admiral Franz Kanaris [Abwehr Director]: It is true. AAA choppers are flying all day and all night to bring in troops and supplies. Thousands of troops are in the area, and thousands more are arriving. Engineers are already building a second airfield at Reiterhof to allow more rapid deployment of forces to the Sellenland.

Generalfeldmarschall Ludwig von der Leijen: _Frau Kanzlerin_ , if we capture Reiterhof, even if official war is declared, Aemen will never be able to recapture the Sellenland. The closest town is several hundred kilometers away, and organizing a defense in the mountain will be extremely easy and cost-efficient.

Heinrich von Preisen [Foreign Minister]: We have discussed this before. An official war will be only used as a last resort. With the Sylvans buddying up with the AAA, an open war may lead to consequences beyond imagination.

Ulrike Meinhof [Chancellor]: Or not. The majority of the population seems to be understandably very much in support of the Sellenwankers and we have many MP's, even within our party, calling for the 'defense of the Sellenland'. A war might just unite the Volksrepublik and make our citizens stop fighting amongst themselves over petty issues. War is peace, quite literally. _Herr Vonderlein_ , you have my permission to use rotary wing aircraft. However, promise me that you will use them sparingly, and do all you can to hide their identity.

Generalfeldmarschall Ludwig von der Leijen: Doing otherwise would be irrational. As with the armor, we'll continue with the claim that they're supplied by the Red Security Company.

Ulrike Meinhof: Good; that brings us to the second point. Herr Zusak, thank you for the report on the estimates of the presence of natural resources in the Sellenland. Could you please give us a brief overview?

Siegfried Zusak [Econ. Minister]: The report, which you all have, is a result of several weeks of investigations by numerous civilian scientists in the employ of the Wirtschaftsministerium and the Abwehr in the weeks preceding the invasion, which have been updated by the teams dispatched with Wankan forces to the Sellenland and who are currently operating without the former restrictions in the territory.

The Sellenland sits on a gigantic pile of energy resources, along with valuable minerals like silver, diamond and gold. More time will be needed to get a more accurate picture of the concentrations of the latter. The basins in the north are where massive oilfields are located, containing a rough estimate of 1.2 billion barrels of oil, along with huge reserves of natural gas and oil shale. These fields alone could reduce Wankas domestic oil production deficit to nearly nothing. Then there are the numerous uranium deposits scattered throughout the location, along with possibly over five billion tonnes of coal. Of course, these are only initial estimates; heavy equipment will be required to give us more accurate numbers. All in all, if the entire area were to be developed, it would seriously kickstart our economy for the 21st Century. However-

Ulrike Meinhof: Why hasn't the Aemen government exploited these reserves yet? For forty something years, it has been sitting around twiddling its thumbs with seemingly enough energy and oil under its grounds to supply the entire world!

Siegfried Zusak: I was coming to that. With the Sellenland so detached from the rest of Aemen, it has never seriously bothered to look for resources in the area. Practically, for them, it's going to be a real logistical pain to be able to fully exploit it, not even considering the potential environmental damage such operations might cause. In addition, it is, or was, an attractive spot for tourists, ecotourists, naturists… which in itself has generated some serious income, in addition to a clean image for the monarchy.

Admiral Franz Kanaris: The Sellenland is home to a vast, near-untouched ecosystem and contains the rarest animal species on earth, for example the famous _Lucos Humus Septentrius_. Were we to blow off the tops of the Allgäuer mountains to dig for coal, we're risking the extinction of these species. Not to mention the side-effects of the change in wind direction and speeds, which might result in global…

Ulrike Meinhof: _Genug_ , enough! Franz, I never knew you joined the Green camp. I'll stop you right there before you start fantasizing about climate change and saving insects. I was just wondering just how beneficial this war that we just started, would be. _Dankeschön_ , Herr Zusak. I understand your concerns about the environment, but we have to provide for a hundred fifty million hungry people which happen to be on this piece of land we're governing. We will worry about that once the oil rigs are drilling, Sellenwankers are mining and the economy is skyrocketing. For now, there is a war to be fought. Hopefully, a secret war; but if necessary, an open war.

Admiral Franz Kanaris: _Frau Meinhof_ , you do not understand. We will take years to build the necessary infrastructure, and by then irreparable damage to the environment will be done and will give you problems which cannot be solved by a great economy.

Ulrike Meinhof: _Herr Admiral_ , have you not been following the news? Aemen aircraft have been burning your precious ecosystems to the ground with napalm. By the end of the war, I assure you, there will be nothing but bare mountaintops, with resources ready to be exploited by a rejuvenated generation of Wankers. The meeting is adjourned; I will see you all tomorrow, here, at the same time. _'ch diene das Vadderland._

 **Near Horb** **  
** **Day 3** **  
** **0900 Hours**

Gefreiter Heinz Schulemann navigated his way through the thick forest, which was the best way to quietly approach the strategic village of Horb, a settlement which straddled a mountain overlooking Highway 68. The Wankan 77th Mountain Infantry Regiment was engaged in a race against the Achesian forces to capture the village, and the regiment commander was determined to get there first. So despite the threat of the AAA aircraft, he'd sent part of his reconnaissance company down the highway to be able to reach Horb quicker.

The local SOAB forces, particularly the troops under the command of the Spezialeinsatzkommando Sellenland (SEKS), were doing a good job in monitoring the activity of the enemy forces. Armed with the knowledge that no Achesian units had reached Horb yet, the company _Hauptmann_ directed his troops straight toward the village.

Schulemann, in his _Spähpanzer Fuchs_ armored reconnaissance vehicle, sighted the isolated village first. The recon section, consisting of five recon vehicles, formed into a wedge, with the four Schützenpanzer-12 IFV's interspersed with them. As one, the formation appeared out of the cover of the dense vegetation, driving quickly up along a bumpy side road leading to Horb from the south-east. No resistance was expected, and none was met as they passed by the first abandoned huts. One of the Schützenpanzers stopped while the rest continued on, its troops quickly dismounting to search the houses.

The first sign of trouble came from behind them. The search platoon had crashed open the first door when they were met with automatic rifle fire. Before the unit could react, dark shadows appeared in the windows of the huts in front of the formation. Two rockets raced out, accompanied by noisy machinegun fire which tore through the peaceful silence. One of them detonated on the front left tire of Schulemann's Spähpanzer, causing it to make a 90 degree turn and grinding it to a standstill. Bullets pinged noisily on the armor of the Luchs as Schulemann regained control of himself.

 _"RRRRRAAUS! Raus aus dem Panzer!"_ ("Out! Out of the vehicle!")

Schulemann obliged, grabbing his MP-13 and tumbled out of the vehicle. And just in time, too. Seconds later, the Luchs was hit by two more rockets which wrecked the vehicle and instantly killed the gunner who'd remained inside. All around him, the automatic 20mm and 30mm cannon fire of the Wankan vehicles chattered in response to the contact, flattening the huts in front of them. Dismounted _Gebirgsjäger_ accompanied the vehicles as they advanced in face of the fire. Schulemann, firing his submachine gun at the enemy, ran over to another Luchs whose crew were busily attempting to fix the vehicles wheels under fire. The Wankans continued advancing, the troops finding cover from the moving vehicles. Fierce close combat fighting occurred as the light infantry sought to clear the cellars of the destroyed huts of Achesian infantrymen. Nevertheless, the resistance soon proved to be too strong for the Wankan recon company, and the company commander had no choice but to retreat. Harassed by Achesian fire all along the way, the company finally reached the safety of the forest once again, and the commander paused to calculate his losses. Schulemann's Luchs had been destroyed, along with another Schützenpanzer, both of which lay abandoned on the battlefield. Three Luchs were damaged, but could still move, while a Schützenpanzer was heavily damaged. The explosive-reactive armor had seemingly worked as planned, although it would certainly take awhile for the damaged vehicles to return to combat. Ten men lay dead, along with another fifteen wounded, most casualties coming from the armor crewmen being incinerated in their vehicles. The wounded were quickly whisked off back to Siegen, while the remaining troops set up monitoring posts along the forest outline. Soon, entire battalions of Gebirgsjäger would be arriving, who would kick the Achesians out of Horb- for now, the commander relayed the information to the regiment headquarters, and ensured that the SEKS troopers would be given a serious telling-off.

 **Horb, Sellenland-**

As the fighting faded and the dust settled Sur Dieter Albrecht and his fellow Achesian soldiers climbed from his Mora MRAP to survey the damage. Several buildings were reduced to splinters from the latest attack by the Wankers. The dust nearly covered his entire suit of armor in a film, making the black lion on a field of yellow hard to see. He was sworn to House Speech but Sur Albrecht had a oath to the Army, as part of long standing tradition of household knights being loaned out to serve in the Royal Armed Forces. The chips of wood and stone crushed under his boots as he stepped around the rubble of the building, he soon came upon what was left of the men he had take up post here, the upper torso of a young man at arms, his one remaining eye gazing at the sky where his soul returned to. Albrecht covered his nose from the wretched smell of the burning and exposed flesh around him. There wasn't much left of these men, it would be a tough fight to keep this town.

Behind him the crushing of debris came closer and a young boy of no more than 15 stood there. "Sur, same thing for the other eastern posts. 8 Total dead." The boy reported.

"Thank you Gotthilf." He nodded to his squire, still holding his glove to his nose. He soon stepped back towards his MRAP and signaled for his radioman to bring him the coms. A more salty experienced soldier ran up with the radio strapped to his back and handed Sur Albrecht the radio. "Get me headquarters." He ordered. With a few clicks of a button and turning of a dial the static soon gave way with a clear channel for the knight to speak through. "Razor Actual, this is Razor Blue. Heavy contact with enemy, suspect main attack to be on position Hangman. Request direct fire support our way."

The men around the knight began to spread out, rifles in hand treading ever so carefully as they knew somewhere a Wanker was watching them. But it was a trust in their overwatch that they would find the scout before enemy fire found them. A couple men at arms began placing crew served weapons in various positions such as ditches and upper levels of houses. Others set up ATGM missiles to prepare to direct fire onto them. These men were used to traveling light, as they were the Air Dragoons, Sky warriors if you may. Achesias commanders felt safe putting them in a hot situation to let it work itself out.

"Razor Blue, confirmed, you have 155mm batteries on your direction. Send in targets when ready."

"Roger, targets will be..." Sur Albrecht went on for a minute giving the targets to the fire base just 10 miles behind their position. They would be very ready for the next attack.

The 120th Air Dragoon's, IV Legion, 3rd Battalion had 840 troopers in Horb at present time. This was not its full strength but in fact just 3 companies worth of soldiers. They had arrived via helicopter just 8 hours to set up a defensive position after the first few engagements between Achesia and Wanka, and with Horb being at a crossroads between the two forces it was key that this village be secured. High headquarters assured Sur Albrecht that reinforcements in the form of two companies of Royal Rangers would arrive within the hour but he knew that their time tables were always wrong. _Plan goes out the window as soon as the first shot is fired_ , that saying was rolling through his head constantly, an idiom many sadly stuck to in the Army, but he knew only piss poor plans went out any window. Knowing he was outnumbered he had prepared for the worst possible scenario of being overrun by superior Wankan numbers. He had rigged the first threshold of the village with claymore mines and anti tank mines along the roadway. As soon as they set foot within the village they would be blown to bits by the booby traps while being cut down by fire from Achesian infantry teams. With the direct fire support he was able to pre target designated positions all along the hillside and tree line, so at the first sign of Wankan advance he would rain steel on their heads from their field artillery.

It was a well thought out plan, he imparted much of this strategic thinking upon his squire who stood by him waiting for the inevitable, they would be take up positions near the front of their forces lines. It was important for the men to see their Knight Commanders at the front, it took grit to lead Achesian Men, they would not follow just anyone. That was Albrecht's first lesson to young Gotthilf. Often these squires or young knights come from privileged Titleian families, and their soldiers from nothing more than a step above the rest. This gap often created for interesting situations, it wasn't unheard of a cock sure privileged knight to catch a bullet in the back during a heavy engagement, or a grenade to appear at their feet when they were not paying attention. So it was important to remind Gotthilf that if he wished to lead Achesian Men to glory and honor the name of their House, he better realize the enemy isn't the only one who will potentially kill him. But for the most part Sur Albrecht's Dragoons respected him, for his leadership and his prowess in battle.

 **Highway 69**  
 **The Sellenland**  
 **Day 3, 04:10 Hours**

It all started incredibly quickly. The recon team had spotted movement and engaged Wankan lookouts in a brief exchange of gunfire before retreating as the rumbling of the Usurper tanks began to move up to the front. Armoured personnel carriers carrying the bulk of the infantry force weren't far behind, but the convoy's commander, Lieutenant Colonel Harald Furst, had decided to switch the armoured tanks to the head of the convoy, intending to use them as a steel battering ram to smash his way to Krakenhof. Furst wasn't like the other Aemen soldiers in appearance, in fact, he was a purely ethnic Wankan. Furst's family, who had lived in the Sellenland since the remnants of the Wankan monarchy invaded, had sworn allegiance to Reginald shortly after Aemen soldiers achieved victory in 1982 and added the Sellenland to their King's possessions. One of the incredibly few Wankan families to do so, and one of the even fewer to be successful in Aemen, Furst, on the recommendation of his father, remained with the military after his compulsory service ended in 1996 and progressed steadily through its ranks, eventually finding himself here, in his ancestral home and commanding his people's ancient enemies against them. For Furst, there were no conflicting morals; his King had spoken and he would obey, reaping the glory and prestige that would only be obtained with a decisive victory.

The fog obscured most of the battlefield from above, meaning the Aemen were unable to utilise their advantage of air support which came in the form of four GR4A Harpy strike jets circling just outside of range. They were watching over the progress of the back of the convoy, making sure no sneak attacks from the Wankans caught the 47th and its support in a pincer.

The Usurpers' speed increased as they rushed forward, hoping to plant themselves right in front of the line of fire to emulate their previous encounter with the Wankan ambush and allow the infantry carriers time and cover to deploy. The first shot was fired as a lucky Aemen tank shell screamed out of the barrel, parting the mist temporarily and striking one of the grey Wankan vehicles as they emerged from their hiding places. This temporary advantage was one Furst intended to capitalise on. From the back of the convoy, being wired in to the tank radios and their updates from the front, he planned to adapt accordingly and let the battle play out with the intent of only going one way: Forward.

Wankan tanks poured from the mountains, rolling over rocks and the bodies of the three casualties of the first encounter between the recon team and the lookouts. They outnumbered the Aemen Usurpers and pressed towards them, firing off shells at the vague lumbering silhouettes in the fog, taking one of the tanks out with concentrated fire and causing it to explode. As bits of enflamed metal splattered onto the chassis of the now-destoryed tank's comrades, the other Usurpers primed their main guns and unleashed a flurry of shells in the direction of their Wankan counterparts. Explosion after explosion tore apart the highway, but neither side was backing down as both armoured forces manoeuvred into positions behind large dislodged boulders and piles of rocks that temporarily shielded them from enemy fire. By this time, the Aemen APCs, nicknamed 'Cauldrons', had unloaded the infantry behind the Usurper line, bringing with them a large amount of anti-tank weapons. Furst's intent was to brute force his way through and wipe out the entranced mountain positions of the Wankans through air and artillery strikes with tanks destroying positions closer to the convoy. To achieve this, he needed the enemy armour eliminated incredibly quickly.

As several squads moved up to the front, joining the Usurpers behind the boulders, shots suddenly rang out from the elevated sides of the highway, striking several Aemen soldiers dead.

"Snipers! Over the sides!" yelled one of the sergeants. The snipers must have been barely able to see the hurrying shadows of the Aemen infantry through the fog, but it was enough for them to risk a shot. The anti-tank squads dropped their equipment over the sides of the highway, jumping over it themselves shortly after and falling into shallow rocky crevasses that made up the highway's sides and began to sneak along them with the intent to get a clear shot on the Wankan armour.

As the tank battle continued, with the boulders being used for cover beginning to split apart from the sheer force they were facing and both tank groups being forced into the open, a fresh wave of assault infantry from the Aemen convoy rushed to the front, intending to support the tanks from clashes with enemy infantry. Furst listened in on the radio from his camp at the base of the mountain, hearing of the snipers and the dug in position of the Wankans along the highway. He was holding the Harpies back for now, determined to use them only when the fog had cleared enough for Wankan positions to be properly targeted; any strikes committed blindly could prove disastrous for the Aemen convoy, as well as Furst's ambitions.

 _ **The Sellenland**_  
 _ **Highway 69**_  
 _ **Day 3, ca. 0440 Hours**_

The cannon boomed loudly as the gunner fired yet another shot at an Aemen Usurper tank which Hauptmann Katsnaroff had marked. His driver reversed the Panzer-90 Gepard tank back into cover of a large boulder, which rocked almost instantaneously with two shell impacts. The gun was reloaded, and the driver moved tank back up to its defensive hulldown position.

"Schützenpanzer, um die Elf… Feuer!"

The tank rocked backwards as it released another shell, this one screaming toward an exposed Aemen IFV whose ammunition rack detonated, sending the turret rocketing into the air. Meanwhile, voices shouted desperately in Katsnaroff's headpiece, barely audible in the midst of the heavy cannon fire.

 _"… Achtung… feindliche 'fantrie… erster Zug zieht zurück… dritter Zug, bitte Deckung geben…"_ __

 _"…nicht möglich… dritter Zug ist komplett vernichtet… ziehn' zu Fuss zrück…"_ __

 _"… Janoschhhh, halt' die verdammte Infanterie weg… AHHHH… du LIEBER Gott… bin getroffen…"_ _  
_  
The withdrawal was not going well. Katsnaroff could see his tank commanders desperately firing the mounted 12.7mm machine guns at the advancing Aemen assault infantry, who were using rocket launchers and anti-tank missiles to great effect. On the right side of the highway, one of his platoons had all of its tanks not only disabled, but were left as smoking wrecks due to the heavy enemy fire. Its surviving crews, numbering six tankers altogether, were left behind as the Wankers made their withdrawal, which was further hindered by numerous massive boulders which broke off due to shell impacts and littered the highway and retreat paths. The six tankers had to fend for themselves using their MP-13 submachine guns, and, as they stood no chance against the hundreds of Aemen infantrymen rapidly advancing, soon surrendered.

The Füsilier platoon which was aiding Katsnaroff's force proved to be ineffective; their unconcentrated firing, in addition to the fire support given by the Schützenpanzer-10 IFV's proved insufficient in repelling the Aemen infantry. By the time the second armor group, which had advanced to cover their withdrawal, had taken over the fight, Katsnaroff had only six operational tanks out of fourteen left with most tank crews of the damaged/disabled either dead or in enemy hands. It was nothing but a disaster; the Aemen advance continued unhindered with not a sign of slowing down. Katsnaroff's "Company", which was of platoon size, was absorbed into Panzerbatallion Nr. 2701's second company which was trying to stem the Aemen advance. After a twenty minute rest, where his "company"'s ammunition and fuel was replenished, he was plunged straight into battle again. By this time he and his troops were near exhaustion after over two hours of nonstop fighting, and were practically freezing to death. It wasn't about to get better, either. As the started to sun shine its rays through the dust, the fog began to clear. Up to now, there were only two occasions when the Ozelot's radars had detected and launched missiles at the enemy aircraft overhead, and on both occasions the radars quickly lost track of the targets, the missiles flying into empty space, the aircraft not bothering the ground troops. However, with the sky clearing, there was bound to be AAA air activity- which spelt trouble for the planned massed counterattack. Even without air support, the casualties of the initial tank battles already numbered half a battalions' worth of vehicles- some twenty burning or abandoned tanks.

Not that it would matter much; von der Leijen insisted that it had to be carried out, and all Wankan assets in the north would be committed to the assault. Along the Aemen supply lines, SEKS forces were ordered to spare no man in attacks on AAA forces. Snipers were had already gathered in the area and took on their sniping roles, trying to get as many kills as possible despite the weather. In the mountains south of Highway 69, Gebirgsjäger battalions readied themselves to launch attacks on the Aemen formations right flank. Two attack helicopter squadrons, numbering thirty KH-13 Löwin gunships, were spread across the central mountains and Ellenburg itself in secret camouflaged hangars, placed on high readiness; it was hoped that their presence would shock the Aemen troops and do enough damage to crush their morale (and then it was also hoped that the gunships could clear out in time to escape punishment by Aemen fighters).

The time ticked on. At nine o'clock, Katsnaroff wondered how he was still alive. Earlier, his Gepard had taken three direct hits in quick succession, and he was the only crew member to survive. Bloodied and dazed, he had clambered off the burning tank, and lay on the ground as the battle raged around him. Luckily for him, a group of retreating Füsiliers crossed his path and picked the captain up- when he had his next scrape with death. A mortar shell exploded right behind the squad, and the young female sergeant carrying him shielded him from the blast. He'd taken her name down with shaking hands, determined that he was to bring the news of her death to her family himself.

Not that he'd had much time to think about the comrades he'd lost in such a quick succession. After getting treated in a makeshift field hospital, where it was discovered that he was only superficially wounded, he was pressed into action again. A tank commander of one of the 7th's Panzer battalions had been killed exposing himself to enemy fire, and so he found himself once again commanding a platoon, again waiting to make contact with the enemy advance. This time, however, in a solid, well-prepared bunker-like fighting position for his tank, well lodged into the slope of the mountain. Thousands of SOAB fighters had been involved, assisted by troops and heavy engineering vehicles of the Wankan Army, in building an extensive defensive network and hundreds of fighting positions for the army troops. The junction was vital; its capture would cut off thousands of troops, militia and material in the north who currently guarded the resource-rich oil fields and basins. Even now, the men and women, many of them civilians, toiled away; they worked much more efficiently than the Wankan troops who struggled in the thin and cold atmosphere. Activity was reduced, however, as the risk of air attacks increased.

Hundreds of vehicles had been assembled in staging areas on the outskirts of Echterdorf and around the junction. The 7th Füsilier-Division had been further reinforced by an independent Panzer battalion, which would spearhead the counterattack. They would be closely supported by the 7th's 22nd Füsilier-Regiment whose mechanized troops, mounted on Schützenpanzer-10's, would play the exact same supporting role that the Aemen assault infantry had been playing. Katsnaroff had the luck to find himself in the 22nd's Panzer battalion, which would be the first line of reserves for the leading column of tanks. But while these represented the main force, hundreds of other vehicles were also present, crammed into this one small space. Batteries of mobile SAM systems were brought dangerously to the front, many dozens more would line themselves along the road. Engineer vehicles prepared themselves to pave the roads to allow the rapid transportation of supplies by the hundreds of trucks filled to the brim with munitions, fuel, basic food rations, drinking water, medications… enough, hopefully, to sustain the drive forward for a significant amount of time if necessary. Wiesel mortar, anti-tank and anti-aircraft versions of the Gebirgsjäger added to the confused mix of troops; even self-propelled artillery battalions were brought to firing positions (however, they were not to be fired, as the risk of fratricide, due to the proximity and predicted fluidity of the fighting, was nearly 1).

It was truly an ambitious endeavor, and one that had been meticulously planned and organized. At 9:30am, on the strategically important 20-meter long bridge to the south of the small villages of Wolfsbach, civilian trucks approached the Aemen military checkpoint from both sides. Dozens of SOAB militiamen jumped out of the vehicles, violently surprising and killing the Aemen troops guarding the bridge with heavy automatic fire. Once the bridge had been secured, dozens more SEKs fighters appeared, carrying heavy weaponry. Immediately, under the direction of the three-man Abwehr leadership, the SEKs troops, in the first offensive since the day before, set up defensive fighting positions around the bridge. In the near vicinity of the bridge, military and suspected military supply convoys were targeted by RPG-armed RAPEs and were either destroyed or hijacked. They were here to stay, with the orders of holding on to the bridge as long as physically possible. As one group rapidly set up heavy weapon positions in the multiple buildings around the bridge, the other began laying anti-tank and anti-personnel mines on both approaches to the bridge. In the air, six stealthy TH-90 Fuchs utility choppers navigated their way cautiously forward, maintaining a dangerously low altitude and sticking close to the mountains. Up to now, all Wankan chopper activity was limited to such hazardous maneuvers which significantly minimized detection, but also proved to be very dangerous. Two choppers had already been brought down in non-combat related accidents, and that number was sure to rise. Nevertheless, it was important to the counterattack that the bridge was to be held so that supplies would be cut off to the Aemen 47th. The six choppers were loaded with a company-sized unit composed of elite, handpicked troops of the 75. Sturmbatallion named _"Sondergruppe Hartmann"_ , after its commander. The 75th's troops were dedicated military special operations forces, specially trained for situations like these, and von der Leijen would now rely on them to cause a major headache to the Aemen commanders.

After receiving just two hours of rest, the Generalfeldmarschall von der Leijens voice crackled in Katsnaroff's earpiece. Although it was just over 10 o'clock in the morning, a layer of light mist still hung in the air, and the temperature had increased to a more comfortable 5 degrees Celcius.

"Ehrenwerte Soldaten und Offiziere der Volksrepublik! Der Feind naht; bereitet euch für den Angriff vor. Vergesst nicht: Fahrkarte bis zur Endstation! Wir werden uns nur in eine Richtung bewegen- und zwar VORWÄRTS! Die Zukunft des Sellenlandes, und unsere Ehre, steht auf dem Spiel… enttäuscht das Vaterland nicht!" ("Honorable soldiers and officers of the People's Republic! The enemy is approaching, prepare to attack. Remember: Don't stop until you reach the objective! We will only move in one direction- and that is forwards! The future of the Sellenland, and our honor, is in your hands… don't disappoint the fatherland!")

As if on cue, the rhythmic cannon fire suddenly became amplified; a platoon of Gepards retreated down the highway, their cannons firing at targets clouded in the fog. Commands and shouts went through the air and the radio as the Wankan vehicles rolled out of their staging points. The retreating tank platoon, with one of its tanks' turret clearly shot out of shape, was bypassed by the armor of the leading Panzer battalion. These were closely followed by the 22nd's mechanized companies, whose troops were ready to dismount to provide the Gepards with close infantry support. Further back, in the third line, were Wiesel weapons carriers and mobile FLAK vehicles. These were followed by thousands of combat reserves of the who would quickly replace any losses on the frontline. The _Generalfeldmarschall_ had made it clear that there was no turning back now; the leading elements were to push, push, push regardless of the situation. The next few hours would depend on whether the Aemen troops decided to try and hold their ground, or fall back; Katsnaroff hoped for the latter, or else the battle would turn into one hell of a messy, close combat fight…

On the mountain ridges overlooking Highway 69 from the south, troops of two battalions of the 75th _Gebirgsjägerregiment_ appeared in a flanking attack on the Aemen formation. Several companies made their way down to fight from a closer distance, but most stayed on the ridge line. The Wiesel mortar-carriers which was practically the only vehicle that could drive up there began bombarding the Highway, supported by long-range recoilless rifle fire and infantry mortar fire. Anti-tank guided missiles swerved down the slopes, heading towards the Aemen armored vehicles caught within their sights.

While this was going on, forward air controllers on the ground each marked their targets, lasing the lead tanks which appeared out of the mist. From behind the mountain peaks, ten lurking Löwin gunships rose into the air, each armed with an array of anti-tank missiles, short range anti-air missiles and rockets. A massive salvo of anti-tank guided missiles was quickly released toward the menacing Usurpers; however, due to the interference of the fog, many quickly lost their lock on their targets. The gunships made their way back out of sight, heading back to base to be rearmed for their next fire support mission. The next ten gunships, hovering in cover of the mountains, took over, quickly overflying the advancing Wankan columns… 


	15. At Heaven's Command

**Kronstadt** **  
** **Day 3, ca. 1100 Hours**

The old, gray government house bustled with activity under the watchful gaze of a giant portrait of Kaiser von Auerhahn, the first emperor of the Wankan _Kaiserreich_. For over two hundred years, the portrait had remained and been maintained, despite the fall of the glorious Empire, as von Auerhahn still remained a symbol of a united and strong Wanka. It was not the only remaining sign of the former monarchy; indeed, Kronstadt itself meant _Crown City_ and even the various communist groups that had temporarily seized control never thought of changing the name. The ancient city, which was growing by the day, was _the_ holy city for the rather nationalist-paganist Wankers, a symbol of Wankan culture, independence and identity.

" _'Tag, Herr Admiral_ ," greeted the Schwarka guard, who saluted as Admiral Kanaris, Abwehr director, walked toward the exit. The old former submarine captain exchanged a few words with the guard, who seemed to be the only Schwarka guy to be able to talk more than three words at any one time. The rest of the Schwarze-Kavallerie-Leibgarderegiment, including the few women, seemed to have undergone some kind of speech-prevention therapy, the Admiral mused. As he strolled out of the building, dark clouds were forming above and the first cold raindrops crashed to the ground.

"Danke, Lenni," he said to his adjutant, who opened an umbrella for them, "you know what, having bloody crisis conferences throughout this morning has thoroughly exhausted me, I think I'll go home and take a rest."

" _Jawohl, Herr Admiral_ ," the adjutant replied, "after all, you are not the youngest anymore."

Kanaris had a chuckle at that as he struggled into the armored car. "Goddamn Zusak… I told him to report more conservatively on what he found in the Sellenland… now Ulrike seems to be ready to sacrifice the entire nation for the Sellenland."

"You know, I had a talk with Vonderlein yesterday. He said that if the counterattack stalls or gets thrown back, we're essentially screwed. If we don't capture Reiterhof soon, the AAA can keep landing troops and any chances of victory would soon be lost. He's skeptical, the good general, always has been since he was given this mission. Didn't initially want to take the job, but he's by far the best one we have. I don't know…"

The car stopped in the traffic. Heavy rain began pouring down; the numerous ragged homeless folk which littered the dirty streets of Kronstadt quickly scattered. Crying orphans, drenched in the water, begged for help from the more well-off passer-by's who quickly rushed through the more dangerous parts of the city.

"But maybe," commented the adjutant, "it's worth a shot. With the riches of the Sellenland we can get these people off the street, and make Kronstadt free of the mafia. We can jumpstart our economy, provide jobs, reform public housing… we have to recognize the fact that Wanka is by far the most poor nation in Septentrion."

"We're already making progress, and our growth has been tremendous. But with this business, we're putting everything at risk." replied Kanaris.

"You see, if Vonderlein fails, which he considers a major possibility, and the Aemen cut our forces in two and threaten Echterdorf, you know what will happen? Wanka will jump into the war, officially, with all the weapons that our Kanzlerin has allowed the military to get their hands on."

"Whether or not we manage to capture the Sellenland, just _imagine_ the international reaction. Few are buying our story now, everybody will see an outright invasion of Aemen by Wanka. How many civilians the Aemen have killed doesn't matter. That the Sellenland is Wankan land, doesn't matter. We will be isolated, sanctions will be imposed, possibly a blockade erected which will push our economy into the drains."

"And then there are the Sylvans. The bastards are actively _seeking_ to find a chance to invade us, and what Meinhof is doing isn't improving matters. These animals always need to fight, and we risk giving them a legitimate reason to do so. Now that would spell the end of us; it would probably be a repeat of the 1970s. Our nations stability solely rests on the government's ability to provide an increasingly better material life for the people. Once that's gone, I tell you, there will be another full-scale civil war."

"You worry too much, _Herr Admiral_. Have trust in von der Leijen. I'm sure he will be able to succeed; he has never failed, hasn't he?"

"There's always a first. Mind you, and even if we succeed, what then? The monarchy will be preparing all it has to retake the Sellenland- why would they do otherwise? Defeat won't be an option for Reginald. The war will drag on."

"Then what do you propose?"

"I've always been pushing for the withdrawal of Wankan Army troops from the Sellenland. It's not too late yet, and it's not too late to save Wanka. I'm a patriot, Lenni, I love our _Vaterland_ , and I will do everything I can to ensure that it doesn't go down a second time. . _Aufwiedersehen, Lenni_ , I'll call you if I need you."

With that, the Admiral clambered out of his car, his hand clutching his briefcase. He did not plan to take a nap; no, in the privacy of his own office, he would plan his next move.

 **Near Achesian Firebases** **  
** **Day 3, ca. 1745 Hours**

Oberleutnant a. D. Jens Lukas Haradra wordlessly surveyed his targets from his observation post high up in the mountains. He had had the whole day to plan this attack, and he wanted it to go perfectly. His targets were three Achesian firebases which were in position to strike on the 77th Gebirgsjägerregiment if it were to launch its attack on Horb. _General der Gebirgstruppen_ Eduard W. Schöner, commander of the 101st "Edelweiss" Division, had personally driven under risk of attack toward the combat zone, and had determined that the Achesian artillery would be the biggest threat to any large-scale advance to capture Horb and they would almost certainly had pre-aimed their guns at Wankan positions.

Luckily, the Wankans had the SEKS, and with the local Sellenwankers expertise, the assault on Horb was supposed to succeed. Haradra wouldn't be actually fighting the Achesians this time; his job was now to ensure that the six Wankan artillery forward observation officers remained safe and undetected, so that they could lead Wankan-made shells toward their targets. In addition, there was a direct action RAPE under his command, equipped heavily with rocket launchers. For each of the three firebases, there were three men with two launchers amongst them who would send the warheads flying toward the firebase control centers from afar. Supporting these were three teams of snipers who were supposed to give sniper fire support to any unlucky soldier who came in sight of their crosshairs. However, the fog was especially heavy today, which complicated their efforts- effective fire would only be given if the weather permitted. Emphasis would be placed on preserving lives of the Sellenwankers for this mission. The costly ambushes the days before had significantly hampered and cut down available SEKS forces, leading to a more-or-less halt in SEKS attacks up to now. Indeed, for day three alone, only two minor attacks were carried out on AAA supply lines.

Ten minutes to the attack. At exactly 1800 hours, a Wankan artillery battalion, with eighteen self-propelled Haubitze 200 guns stationed in camouflaged positions along Highway 68, would soon saturate the given coordinates of the three firebases with explosive shells. Haradra's RAPE and snipers would start their assault on his command, all in an attempt to silence the Achesian artillery for the second Wankan attempt to capture Horb.

 **Near Horb** **  
** **Day 3, 1800 Hours**

Gefreiter Heinz Schulemann tensed as the first artillery shells hit home. His Spähpanzer Fuchs, in addition to the rest of the armored reconnaissance company, was in formation, hidden by the thick forest vegetation. In front of them were the _Pioniere_ , the engineers in charge of clearing the heavily mined terrain and road in front of them. Sporadically, bullets pierced through the forest, in response to Wankan snipers taking potshots at the Achesian defenders. Schulemann checked his watch; one minute to 1810 hours. He checked the vehicles systems, preparing himself to head into battle. The second Wankan artillery battalion, also consisting of eighteen Haubitze 200 SPGs, opened fire, sending shells onto suspected Achesian positions in and around Horb. Little consideration was given to the native Sellenwankan homes and other infrastructure; what mattered was that the Wankan forces would take the village. Smoke billowed into the air as the clock ticked on. Soon, it approached 1815 hours- action time.

"Fall Grün, Fall Grün, jetzt geht's los! VORWÄÄÄRTS!"

Flawlessly, the artillery fire shifted forward, ahead of the Wankan advance. From the forest, just like the first time, Schulemann's company appeared, this time all guns blazing. Anti-tank guided missiles were launched toward Achesian vehicles as the autocannons chattered on. From within the forest, mortar crews joined in the barrage, providing close support for the advancing engineers. Under fire, the engineers launched line charges across the fields, clearing the way for the Wankan mountain infantry. These leaped forward, providing cover for the engineers as they proceeded to clear the next lines. Schulemann and his company were relegated temporarily to a fire-support role as the foot soldiers did most of the work. Despite the best attempts of the engineers, numerous mines were left undetonated, quickly putting a Wiesel Weapons-Carrier out of action and damaging a Schützenpanzer. Several Gebirgsjäger troops were also maimed badly when they encountered the mines, and progress was slow. Schulemann carefully navigated his way through the cleared lines as above him, his new gunner chattered non-stop with the 20mm cannon. For now, the Achesian artillery remained, thank god, silent.

The Wankan assault involved the entirety of the 77th Gebirgsjägerregiment and the elite and ruthless Schwarze-Kavallerie-Leichtes-Regiment. The three maneuver battalions of the 77th were lined up as they approached the village, each with around five hundred men. The second battalion lead the way, followed by the two others which acted as fire support and reserve formations. The Second was also reinforced with the regiments light armor and anti-tank Wiesels which essentially, coupled with the light companies, acted as combined-arms formations. The entire formation was escorted by numerous batteries of Ozelots, which scanned the skies suspiciously for the enemy.

Further northeast, a flanking advance was undertaken by elements of the "Schwarkajäger" Regiment. The terrain was particularly rocky in this area and while it would provide lots of cover from direct fire, progress would be very slow, the use of vehicles was out of question, and they would be perfect targets for Achesian artillery. However, with the expectation that fighting on the main axis of advance might bog down in vicious fighting with the suspected 1,000+ Achesian defenders, General Schöner insisted on launching this flanking attack. And the troops could not have been better suited for this job; despite having just completed an arduous 25-kilometer trek through the bitter environment, the troops of the ultra party-loyal Schwarka Regiment did not utter a single word of complaint when told of their mission. They expertly navigated their way toward the village, with the hope of outflanking and chasing the Achesians out of Horb, and if possible, also capturing a significant portion of the enemy. Over four thousand troops in (unmarked) uniform would participate in the attack, which was personally overseen by the _"Edelweiss"_ commander, _General der Gebirgstruppen_ Eduard W. Schöner, from a vantage point three dozen kilometers from the front line. 

**Highway 69**  
 **Day 3, 0545 Hours**

"Get your head down!" shouted a corporal at a group of conscripts as chaos began to unfold around them. The back of the 47th's convoy suddenly found itself thrust into the middle of the conflict as Wankan forces rained havoc on them from the mountainside. The first mortar shells began to pour down all around the formation, prompting APCs to scramble for cover whilst the soldiers on the ground were open to bullets flying at them from the high ridges. Whilst the Aemen troops tried to regain their bearings and focus on where their attackers' positions were, several mortar shells landed lucky hits on two APCs, blasting them into the air whilst subsequent anti-tank missiles sent their flaming husks smashing into the opposite side of the highway. The APCs and infantry soon began returning fire and peppered the mountainside with bullets, but the Wankans had a strategic advantage as the rocky ridges shielded them from Aemen fire. Without the support of the Usurper tanks who were tied up at the front of the convoy, it was a one way battle that could soon turn into a bloody massacre that would temporarily blunt the Aemen efforts to retake the Sellenland.

"Sir! Surprise attack at our flanks! The Wankans have set up position on the mountainside!" shouted one of the communications specialists manning a radio at Lieutenant Colonel Furst's camp. The entire area was buzzing with activity as the 47th came under massive fire, Furst's team struggled to deal with repeated inquiries from Bezuidenhout's headquarters in Reiterhof whilst assessing the situation at the front. "Please advise, sir!"

"Move the Harpies to support. Lock on to the mountainside and blast it to pieces if it must be done, just get the attention off of our flanks!" shouted Furst who was attempting to secure more aircraft from the airfield, his underlying accent beginning to show.

The squad of Harpy strike jets moved into action, forming up and soaring through the sky towards the rear of the convoy. On approach, they released their payloads and broke formation as their missiles slammed into the Wankan positions, raining down small rocks and bodies caught in the blast down onto the Aemen below before preparing to come about for another pass. Allowed a brief reprieve from the shower of bullets from above, the Aemen troops and surviving APCs turned their weapons on the soldiers that had made their way down the mountain for a better shot at their opponents, with the APC mounted turrets in particular making minced meat of many of the Wankans brave enough to venture close to the convoy. As the Wankans on the mountainside began to recover from the Harpy run, the jets themselves rallied around for another pass, determined to put a stop to the mortar crews that posed a threat to the 47th's vehicles.

At the front, things were a different story. The persistence of the fog seemed to have become a blessing for the advancing Usurper tanks as anti-tank missiles from the gunships danced erratically in all directions, some striking far off their target whilst others exploded just a few metres from their intended destinations. Behind the tanks, sprongs of infantry lined up, preparing to charge forward using the vanguard of Usurpers for cover. Some slung their rifles of their backs and opted to carry their Man-Operated Air-Defense weapons, or M-PADs, with the goal of shooting the gunships from the air once they inevitably became too much of a problem. The dilemma that the 47th faced was that they were woefully unprepared for what they were fighting; in a proper military campaign, the division would be supported properly from the air and coordinating with others to wage an all-out attack for total victory. It was the combination of assumptions, bad intelligence, surprise and uncooperative allies that had landed the 47th in a position where the Ministry of Initiative thought they would be all that was needed to retake the Sellenland.

The Usurpers rolled forward before they were opened up to an attack from all sides as the entrenched Wankan resistance unleashed a barrage of bullets and missiles. The Usurpers' pointed their battered barrels at the larger concentrations and clusters of Wankers, firing off their shells as the bodies of their enemies were launched into the air, limbs were lost and organs were splattered all over the cratered gravel road of Highway 69. It didn't seem to be any use, for every Wankan viscerally obliterated by the Usurper guns, they were replaced by the reserves massing behind the frontline, continuing the strain of heavy gunfire on the tanks and the troops they were protecting. The Aemen soldiers broke off, dashing to cover at the rocky side of the road and trying to draw the attention off the tanks by bunching up, letting loose their own layer of suppressive fire. The tactic appeared to be working; the Wankans couldn't hold the line despite the constant replenishment of their ranks and were reluctantly losing ground to the Aemen advance, who were spurred on by what looked like an oncoming victory. This wasn't to last.

Almost as if it were an omen from some divine power challenging King Reginald's claim to the region, a strong mountain wind picked up pace along the highway, carrying the fog that once shielded the Usurpers from the Wankan gunships further back down towards Reiterhof whilst the steadily rising morning sun began to break the protective natural cover apart. Without the fog, the Usurpers were open to aerial attacks and Aemen soldiers scrambled to switch to their M-PAD rocket launchers, already under incredible strain trying to maintain their fragile advantage on the ground.


	16. Coup de Théâtre

_**Brenzlau, Sellenland**_  
 _ **Day 3, ca. 23:00 Hours**_

Franz von Heidlberg, self-proclaimed Chancellor of the Free State of Sellenland, looked anxiously at his watch as he quietly opened the back door of his mansion, walking briskly toward the fence which protected the mansion from wild animals from the forest. A section of the fence was cut through, something he'd himself done away from the watchful eyes of the Geheimpolizei (colloquially Gepo) officers, the Wankan secret police, who maintained a small presence at his home, claiming to provide protection from foreign enemies. However, it was soon clear to him that they were only stationed to watch him, and make sure that he stayed in line. Particularly after he'd expressed his opinion, or rather distaste, at the future plans for the Sellenland- the Wankanization of the territory and the planned unconstrained exploitation of the lands resources.

He took a deep breath. _Für Heinrich_ , the Sellenwankan activist and one of his longest and closest friends, brutally murdered by Meinhof and her cronies as part of her ruthless plan to incite hatred amongst the Aemen and Sellenwankers, who had up to now had actually been getting along pretty well, just to get her hands on the black treasures which lay beneath these sacred mountains. _Alles wird wieder gut_.

The 60-year old carefully slipped out of the fence, and, with only his briefcase with him, walked into the forest. Almost immediately, a loud bark shocked the old man, who nearly fell over and took a few seconds to collect his wits. Shining his torch to his left, he saw a small dog- nothing threatening, yet. Unfortunately, the dog insisted on yapping around, making enough noise to alert the Gepo guards at the gate, who instantly ran toward the house to check on Heidlberg. Heidlberg hissed at the dog, who soon lost interest, retreating back into the forest. With that, Heidlberg began to run as fast as his frail body allowed him to. He crossed through the forest, arriving at an unpaved side-road where, as expected, a black VW was waiting. The window was scrolled down; a face, hidden in the dark, appeared.

"Franz grüsst Franz. Die Heiden sind wieder im Anmarsch, wie?" The face asked. The question was as correct, and Heidlberg answered cautiously, _"Die Ampel ist grün."_

The backdoor opened, and Heidlberg entered the car. Sitting next to him was a man in a black leather jacket. He wore sunglasses, although he had no reason to do so, in this darkness. A tattoo of some kind of poisonous snake ran down his neck, and as he lifted one hand, he could see that a finger, the index finger on the left hand, was missing. There was also a noticeable bulge in his jacket; Heidlberg feared the worst. What had the Admiral set him up for?

Nevertheless, there was no turning back. The car sped off into the night, or more precisely, down Bregenzer-Road. The car was stopped at the Wanko-Aemen border, where a wary Wankan soldier came to inspect the car. But the VW-driver would have none of that, waving his ID angrily at the soldier. Surprised, the private quickly apologized, wishing the _Herrn Gepo-Sonderführer_ a good trip back home. With that, Heidlberg found himself inside the People's Republic of Wanka.

The soldier at the checkpoint, however, almost immediately got a call from the Gepo-headquarters in the Ellenburg. The officer explained that none other than Franz von Heidlberg had been discovered missing at his mansion, and that it could not be ruled out that the chancellor had been kidnapped, or was attempting to flee. Had anyone unusual crossed the border? The soldier answered that except for a Gepo _Sonderführer_ , there wasn't much else worth noting. At the other end of the line, the officer quickly conversed in hushed tones with his subordinates- a separate call was made, before the officer returned to the soldier, clearly agitated, wanting to know all about the Gepo Sonderführer who had just crossed the border. The soldier gave him all he remembered- a black VW, a bald, punklike man in the back sitting next to an old man. The license plate was Wankan in origin, the car itself being registered in Schwaben. The nervous Gepo-officer thanked him, ordering the soldier to pull aside and inform the Gepo-HQ of any other suspicious persons attempting to cross the border, before hanging up.

The officer would soon regret giving that order, because the soldiers at the checkpoint soon duly stopped the pair of Gepo cars dispatched to chase Heidlberg. The confrontation escalated, with the (this time) real Gepo-officers ordering the soldier to let them through, while the soldiers ordered them to pull aside as one of them went to phone the Gepo-HQ. In the meantime, however, one of the Gepo-men suddenly suffered from a drop in cognitive ability, throwing all he knew about protocol and firearms safety, and pulled out his revolver, waving it frustratedly at the soldiers. These responded by pointing their assault rifles and a machine-gun at the men. An deadly incident was avoided when the flabbergasted officer at the HQ told the troops at the checkpoint to let them through.

But the _Geheimpolizei_ was lucky. One of the dozen Gepo-cars that had been rapidly mobilized for the search spotted Heidlberg's VW, despite the darkness, on the A33. It began to trail Heidlberg's VW from a distance.

The two men didn't speak, and soon an hour passed. Heidlberg got used to the strangely calming silence as he settled back, admiring the peaceful Wankan countryside which was partly lit up due to the numerous cities and townships located nearby. The highway they were traveling on, in the direction of the predominantly Swabian city of Osnabrügg, was eerily quiet. Another black VW drove at a steady speed way ahead of them, and two minivans, with markings indicating that they belonged to some fashion retailer, trundled on behind them.

Behind the two minivans, however, a grey Benz sped along, covered by the two vehicles in front. The radio crackled. " _Achtung, Streife-Führer_ , roadblock has been set up by the next exit, thirty kilometers in front of you."

Both men inside, armed Gepo-officers, kept an eye on the black VW that was driving at near constant speed on the fast, right-most lane. After ten minutes, two more grey Benz cars had pulled up behind them, and on the order of the _Gepo_ -leader in the lead car, they switched lane and stepped hard on the accelerator. The officers riding shotgun pulled out and checked their Glock pistols. The area was known to be frequented by gangsters of the Bairische Bruderschaft, the biggest and most infamous mafia organization in the Wankan south that was responsible for the most police deaths every year, for four years straight.

With their powerful engines, the Benz trio soon caught up with the VW. The lead car sped ahead, to sandwich the black VW, with their target inside, between them.

But the officer riding shotgun in the lead car noticed, to his complete surprise, that one of the minivans had pulled up by their side, merely five meters apart. The sliding door slid open rapidly.

Heidlberg had watched, with some alarm, at how the two men became increasingly nervous. The driver kept muttering some inaudible gibberish as the man with the missing finger repeatedly looked behind him. Nevertheless, the sudden burst of automatic gunfire took him completely by surprise. As he looked through the back window, he saw what was going on. The two minivans had lined themselves side-by-side with the Gepo cars, with a tongue of fire sticking out of their side doors. The windows of the lead car were quickly splattered with blood, and the car veered off-road and smashed into a barrier. The second Benz, its front engine block shot-up, pulled back, along with the third car. The two Gepo vehicles quickly disappeared from view. Heidlberg exhaled deeply, pressing his trembling fingers together, uttering a silent prayer for the law enforcement officials in the lead car (not that he was deeply religious). But there was a new problem, the tattooed man next to him suddenly said. A roadblock had been discovered up ahead, and they would need to transfer Heidlberg to another car. The VW stopped, and Heidlberg nervously stepped out. Behind them, the two minivans had come to a halt too, with rifle-wielding men piling out the back, setting up their own provisional roadblock. Several minutes later, a police car shot into view screeching to a halt in front of the stunned Heidlberg.

"Han' se koi Angscht, they are with us," the tattooed man said with a strong southern accent, shoving Heidlberg into the police car. "Time's tight, the Gepo is closing in. Hurry!" he said to the police officer in front, who seemed, and as it turned out was, absolutely genuine.

This time, the two minivans took the lead, going straight for the roadblock, where they slowed down. Being informed of the shooting earlier, the police detachment had been reinforced by heavily armed emergency-response units. As the vans stopped, the officers surged forward, surrounding the vehicles and ripping the doors open. The driver was bundled out of the cabin, as the police, on the count of three, broke the rear doors open- to find stacks of neatly-piled cardboard boxes filled to the brim with garments of all types.

Simultaneously, a police car arrived at the roadblock. Two officers approached it, with one cheerfully greeting the police officer driving the car. They knew each other.

"Was isch denn da los?" the driver asked.

"Brotherhood shot-up a coupla Gepo men. Apparently- by the looks of it, they've managed to dupe us once again. Don't know how they convinced us that these innocent guys killed two of their operatives. _Grüss Gott_ , who is your passenger today?"

"My uncle, in fact, I'm bringing him to Osnabrück to see my kids. Loyal fighter for the Zentrum movement since it popped into play."

"Na, _viel Spass_. Just stay clear of the Brotherhood thugs, I'm sure you know all about them. _Schöne Dag no'!_ "

And that was that, they were through the roadblock. As the police officer at the roadblock watched the car leave, something hit him. Kids? Since when did Jürgen, the police officer on the wheel, have kids? They did not know each other very well, but he could clearly remember that a) Jürgen was single and b) that he did mention before that he wanted to start a family, but didn't have the money to do so…

At the _Geheimpolizei_ headquarters in Kronstadt, director Laurent Blank swore loudly for everyone to hear. Heidlberg, that bloody old spy- or whatever he was- had managed to slip through without any problems and was heading deeper into mafia-held territory. Whatever Heidlberg was up to, it was definitely not good and he had a hunch that Heidlberg was setting out to help the enemy. For now, it was imperative that Heidlberg was either captured, or if that was not possible, killed. Meinhof had already expressed her displeasure at Heidlbergs opposition to her plans for the Sellenland. There would be no harm done if he was gone.

After receiving the information about the police car Heidlberg was traveling in, Blank had the details quickly forwarded to his teams on the ground. The Osnabrügg police force was out in force and alerted, but Blank couldn't trust them. Many lower-ranked police officers were known to be in the pay of the Brotherhood, and some of the top officers were not to be relied on, either. Corruption was still rampant, and one thing that Meinhof was still struggling to get rid of, after more than a decade. No, he would have to rely on his heavily armed hit squads who were converging on Osnabrügg in armored vans.

Leutnant Andras Aragorn peered over the shoulders of the driver of his van. In the back sat six heavily armed men and women, all in their full assault gear. With their black helmets, which seemingly came straight out of the Star Wars movie, along with their bulky bulletproof vests and assault rifles, they truly looked scary- and slightly ridiculous, in his opinion. What had the Wankan state come to, that to hunt a sixty year old man, it needed to deploy fully equipped soldiers who'd trained to fight for war?

Still, a mission was a mission. The van accelerated as it arrived a at a straight; ahead of them drove the target police car, which had been quickly identified. With no idea with the degree of protection it was traveling under, Aragorn planned to have it surrounded, then assaulted in a more open area. They had arrived in the suburbs of Osnabrügg, and he was sure that a suitable chance would pop up. For now, they would stay incognito and unknowingly to Heidlberg and his protectors, who were probably the Brotherhood itself, and surround him.

"Yeah, they're likely some of those Gepo bastards. Let's stop them… here." With a nod, his passenger opened the back window of the battered pick-up truck, which had cut in front of Aragorn's van, and pulled the trigger of his 9mm pistol. The bullet impacted onto the bulletproof glass of the van, which veered off to the side. Screams erupted from the sidewalks as bystanders ran for cover. The Wankan commoner in this area was not unfamiliar to deadly gunfights between rival gangs and at times, police.

In the pick-up, one Brotherhood thug nodded to the other. "You were right, it's them."

In the Gepo-van, Aragorn cursed loudly, opening the back door of the van and peering out. Several houses lined the road on the right side. The second Gepo-van had stopped after the shooting, too. A second bullet impacted the van. "Let's finish these bastards first. Group-Zwo, go ahead and get Heidlberg without us!" Aragorn ordered. From the houses, to their right, small-arms fire suddenly erupted, with bullets ricocheting off the armor of the van. One of his men, having dismounted from the van, was hit in the chest, presumably by a pistol round, and fell. Aragorn pulled the officer into cover behind the van.

"ALLE RA-A-AUS!"

Only too late did he realize that they'd run into a well-prepared ambush. As the troops piled out of the armored vans, they came under heavy, concentrated small arms fire from the houses to the right. The Brotherhood gang members were using a wide array of weapons, many of them still originating from the Dark Ages. None of which, thankfully for the Gepo officers, could penetrate the steel armor of their minivans. That wasn't helped by the fact that that remained their only cover, and that they were pinned behind it. Aragorn lifted his G-74 and its attached grenade launcher, stepped out of the cover and sent a grenade flying into a second-floor window, killing two armed men behind it. On both sides of the van, his troops took turns in returning fire to the enemy. Several meters behind, the six troops of the second van were doing the same. With both of the minivans disabled, with their tyres shot-up, Aragorn knew he had to move out of their precarious situation, lest the run out of ammunition and get overrun. Help was on its way, in the form of the local police, but as with the rest of the Geheimpolizei, the Abwehr, and Wankan society in general, he didn't trust them at all. Most of them had little training in these civil-war-like scenarios and would probably not advance into the warzone which had just developed. Several of his troops had been hit, but they bullets could do no damage against the heavy body armor his men were wearing. He gestured wildly to the leader of the second van.

"GIBT UNS DECKUNG! DE-CKUNG GEEBEN!"

The other Feldwebel seemed to have understood. He and another man readied themselves as behind them, the six soldiers prepared to unleash a barrage of fire. Seconds later, they did so, and Aragorn and his subordinate rushed out, heading to the nearest house across the road. A bullet strafed the back of his head, drawing blood. But eventually, they made it, crashing through a half-destroyed door and entering the house. Where they found themselves face-to-face with a giant of a thug wielding an assault rifle. Aragorn hurled himself at the man, and both men began fighting a vicious hand-to-hand battle. His partner, meanwhile, fired at the staircase, dropping a man who was descending it, pistol in hand. There was likely another enemy in the house; leaving Aragorn to fight his own battle, the Gepo soldier carefully ascended the stairs. Gunfire exploded close to him. He threw a grenade into the room, which exploded with deafening noise. As he entered, a man was lying on the ground, writhing in pain- and a pool of blood. His life was ended by a quick double-tap to the back of his head. He returned downstairs, where a bloody Aragorn, with the help of two other troops, had managed to strangle the monster.

Whilst the Gepo hit-squads and virtually the entire Osnabrügg police was tied down fighting a massive battle in the suburbs of the city, Heidlberg easily made it through the city itself, arriving at the Weser an unharmed old man. He quickly blended in with the crowd, and bought a ticket on a private airliner which travelled between Wanka and Sylva. He got through with the help of a fake passport supplied to him by the Admiral, and, several hours after his escape from Brenzlau, was well on his way into neutral territory. Osnabrügg would eventually be put under martial law for two days, with the army itself being ordered to march in to establish order- to little effect, as the Bairische Bruderschaft had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. It had suffered considerably, manpower-wise, but it had proven to be an ideal time to allow its lesser disciplined men to vent their frustration at the notorious _Geheimpolizei_. Only the leader of the massive organized-crime syndicate herself, who had organized the entire thing, knew of the real reason for the operation.

 **Nürnberg** **  
** **Max-Bonhöffer-Streitkräfte-Kommandozentrale Nürnberg** **  
** **Day 4, 1400 Hours**

 _Frau Kanzlerin Doktor Ulrike Meinhof_ ,  
With your decision to invade the Sellenland and wage a secret war against the Aemen people, you have created a deep and deadly divide between Wankers and Aemen and have created wounds that will not heal in the near future, in addition to setting the stage for many future conflicts in the region to come. The worst of all, however, is the fact that you murdered your own, incidentally, one of my oldest friends to fit your imperialist mission and to create gaps between two peoples which have not existed before. The Sellenland belongs to neither Wanka nor Aemen; the Sellenland belongs to the people who live there, whose blood and soil are connected since the arrival of its first settlers, the first people who began to cultivate and lovingly take care of the lands.

You have left me no choice but to act. Whilst I do not feel positively about potentially assisting the Kingdom, the alternative- central Wankan domination- is worse, as you have displayed in our recent meetings. Both Wankers and Aemen are home to these sacred mountains, and we will not tolerate the destruction of our homes and environment to feed the wallets of a corrupted Wankan elite.

With the help of several rational-thinking, like-minded people, of whom there are not few in your government, I have collected an, as you will soon discover, for you unpleasant amount of documents whose publishing will not only reveal the Volksrepublik's intentions and degree of involvement, but will also give a clear _casus belli_ for the AAA and the Septentrion League against Wanka. Attached to the letter is a copy of the _Sellenlandkorps Schlachtordnung 4. Mai_ , which is just one of the numerous documents which reside safely in my hands.

You have precisely seventy-two hours from the moment you receive this letter to withdraw all _Streitkräfte der Volksrepublik_ personnel from the Sellenland. If this is not done, I will release one document, and then a document every following twenty-four hours that the condition is not met, with increasing incrimination. It is up to you to ensure that as long as I live, none of your soldiers set foot on our territory.

Signed,  
Franz von Heidlberg

"The situation on the southern front has stabilized," _Generalfeldmarschall_ Ludwig von der Leijen, CINC-Sellenland, said, "after the successful but costly capture of Horb, we have forced the Achesians into the defensive. They are dug in around Point Kessel, right here," With a laser pointer, he circled the area on the map, "and take to shelling our positions every now and then. Along the entire frontline, the 76th and 77th are occasionally skirmishing with Achesian patrols, but no significant effort has been made yet to cut our lines of supply."

"On the northern front, along Highway 69, we are in a more difficult situation, as I understand from General Galen. Our Panzer spearheads are currently engaged in combat around forty kilometers from this bridge here, north of Aachen. However, the small avalanche near Ellenburg yesterday has complicated our logistical situation somewhat. _Herr General_ , could you elaborate on the situation?" He said, looking at the commander of the 7th Füsiliers.

The young _General der Panzertruppe_ cleared his throat, looking at his report. "Contrary to our expectation yesterday morning, the Aemen conscripts have proven exceedingly stubborn and capable despite the weather conditions. As we counterattacked, we faced difficulty with the fog, which negated our air support, and the Aemen commanders decided to stand and fight. I've been down at the battlefield, where our Gepards can be found often not more than several meters away from destroyed Aemen Usurpers." He flipped a page, before continuing. "Eventually, the flanking assault by General Schöner's 75th proved effective, as with the seizure of the bridge by the SEKS. By the afternoon, the fog had cleared, and our choppers managed to do some significant damage to the Aemen armor. But overall, we have suffered extremely high casualties. As of early this morning, I have altogether fifty-six Gepards destroyed beyond repair along with around a hundred other armored vehicles out of action. Most of the lost vehicles belonged to the attached Panzer-battalion, which has been completely obliterated in the fighting. This, in addition to around a thousand five-hundred troops killed, missing or wounded; I expect this number to rise in the coming hours."

Around the table, several ministers gasped audibly at hearing the last sentence. Up to now, most of the casualties had been SOAB men, and they were regarded as expendable. Well, so were the soldiers of the Wankan armed forces, but they were… less expendable, so to say. Even Meinhof, known for her coldness in these situations, looked visibly worried. The only ones whose expression didn't change were the men and women of the Generality, who had expected as much- and worse.

"The avalanche yesterday at Ellenburg has forced our logistical system to temporarily take a large detour until the road is cleared again. This has clogged up the Tal Street, as it is primarily used to supply the Schöner's Edelweiss-Division. This, coupled with the casualties, and air attacks on our supply system makes a further drive to Reiterhof currently completely out of question."

Von der Leijen frowned inwardly at the young generals bluntness, although he knew that what was said was accurate. Galen was a military commander after all; he had yet to learn how to be a politician at the same time. Surprisingly, however, the room seemed to have accepted that. Admiral Lanzer, the head of the navy (who had spent the past days preparing his ill-equipped force to assault the AAA navies), asked- "And the AAA situation? Would they be in a bad-enough situation to accept a ceasefire agreement, as Admiral Kanaris proposed?"

Von der Leijen replied to that. "Both Aemen and Achesia are on the defensive on both fronts, and their morale is badly shaken. Casualties- I don't have exact numbers- are pretty high on the Aemen side, lower on the Achesian side. Nevertheless, yes, especially if we take the bridge, we will be negotiating from a position of strength. However, I must warn that such a ceasefire will probably not lead to a lasting peace treaty and will be only temporary; the AAA will use the time to reinforce their positions and prepare for a better-coordinated assault. We took them by surprise this time, and leadership and weather have favored us this time, but the next time it will be different."

"As long as it gives us enough time to pull out our troops, set up the Sellenland state and rapidly ready their own armed forces, with our assistance of course. It'll also buy us time- hopefully enough time to eliminate this traitorous Heidlberg. Admiral Kanaris, how is the progress on that from your side?"

Kanaris, who had actually _organized_ the defection of Heidlberg and had provided him with the sensitive documents, fought hard to keep a straight face. It was a dangerous game- a very deadly game indeed, where all sides seemed to double-cross another. But he had played this game for over two decades, and he knew how to keep his facial expressions in check.

"Sylva is a big place, and our assets there are severely limited and lacking… Heidlberg probably knew that in the first place, which was why that location was chosen." He said, choosing his words carefully. "The Abwehr will need some luck to be able to catch him, and then we will have to proceed carefully to avoid getting caught by safeguards which Heidlberg has set up. All things considered, eliminating the problem will require a substantial amount of time and resources and is currently unfeasible in the short term." In other words, _impossible_.

Meinhof nodded gravely at that, turning to the rest of the table. "So, dear friends, this is what will happen. Once we take this bridge Vonderlein has been speaking of, we will send a generous ceasefire agreement to the AAA. This will allow us to bow to Heidlberg's demands and pull our troops out. At the same time, we'll rapidly build up a Sellenwankan state and a strong volunteer force, supplied and dependent on us, but with greater freedoms which Heidlberg will have to accept. And once the Heidlberg problem is gone, we will increase our hold on the region and proceed on our plan to exploit the areas resources. Does anyone have any objections?"


End file.
